I can’t help but feel like she gave up. Gave up on me, gave up on us. I mean if I’m to be real with myself, there are times when I’ve given up too. When I say she gave up, I don’t mean to throw all the guilt of our situation on her. I have my fair share of faults and mishappenings that lead to this situation. Okay, that is probably enough disclaimers.
I kept trying. I wanted to understand her situation, her depression. I wanted to understand her sadness, her aimlessness, her stress. I always struggled with providing feedback/advice when the situation didn’t warrant it. I acknowledge that. But I guess somewhere along the way she lost her trust in me, didn’t tell me things. And I forced myself into her problems, trying to get her to open up. Otherwise, I feel useless. I want to help. I understand now, that wasn’t the way to do it.
It’s frustrating to be helpless when faced with helplessness. It’s frustrating to not understand something she wants you to understand. It’s frustrating to not empathize when she wants to not feel alone. I can’t relate to her struggles, but I want to help bear them, help relieve them.
But she gave up. She gave up on trying to help me understand. She gave up on trying to help me help her. She gave up on us.
That struck me in such an unexpected manner, I don’t know how to respond. Leading up to this ground zero, I made it clear I’d understand if she felt like I was no longer adequate to help her. If she needed something, she should do it, take it, and focus on herself instead of me, instead of us. The funny thing is, I believe it, I really do, that’s what she should do if she needs it. But as a human being that feels, as someone directly impacted by this decision, I can’t help but feel betrayed and lost.
For some reason, the emotions are floating an arm’s length away. I can see my sadness circling around me. I thought I would be overwhelmed by grief, but instead, it looms around just out of reach, attacking me in the most unexpected moments. The heavy emotions manifest itself in a song on the radio, in a glimpse of a figure that walks around the corner, a stroll across an empty street. They grab a hold of my body from one extremity and creep along my body until I’m completely covered, I’m weighed down, moving 2mph as I try to run away. And then I embrace it, a gray blanket of sparkles that roll across my body in waves.
You gave up on me. I won’t forget that; I can’t. Every day there’s a snap of you smiling, and I didn’t help put it there. Perhaps I’m truly not the person to give you help, but I still believe I can and I need you to help me do it. I hate the fact that you lost faith in me. It’s corrupting the things I find beautiful about you and I hate that too. I want to preserve the memory of you I had before this situation before I can’t find the person I love anymore.