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another thing about love
4 months ago
I have many stories to tell. I don't know if they are meaningful. I just feel that I have reached an age and experience to start preparing to end my life, and I am putting them into words to take stock of my life. (This does not mean that I will choose the option of death right now.)
When I was 23, there was someone I trusted and loved as a teacher. I consulted her about my suicidal thoughts, and she tried to help me. We created many things together as co-creators. I trusted her completely, and that became my hope for life. She had a recurrence of cancer and was hospitalized. I did not hear from her for about two years after I turned 24. During that time, I uploaded our memories to a blog. I did it to calm my mind because I did not know if she was alive or dead. And when she came back two years later, I was happy. Six months later, she broke up with me. "Uploading her personal work as if she was dead" was the decisive crack for her. And she said that her own values had changed after experiencing the illness. I was devastated by all the feelings I had. How should I have dealt with my love? My love for her disappeared, but only a deep wound remained. It has been more than 10 years since then, but I still don't know. What was my love? Should I have just waited in silence for her to come back? I think that if she had not come back alive, I would not have been hurt so much. I can no longer wish for her happiness or health. And the same goes for myself. I think of my own love and the love of those who care about me as something that contains pain and deception, just as I once experienced.
Many people love, but many people are hurt and withdraw it. This is a very common phenomenon. There were other people who tried to help me, but not only did they all leave, but some even participated in the drama and bash me. I know that not everyone is like that, but in the end, if I hadn't loved someone, this would not have happened. I don't know what is normal, I don't know what to believe. My own love, someone else's love, help, everything. Living is hell.
Based on common sense, all the wounds I have received are not reasons for me to choose death. But if a person continues to be physically wounded, he or she will eventually collapse and die. Isn't the same true for the heart? Is it humane to doubt love and continue to suffer?
When I was 23, there was someone I trusted and loved as a teacher. I consulted her about my suicidal thoughts, and she tried to help me. We created many things together as co-creators. I trusted her completely, and that became my hope for life. She had a recurrence of cancer and was hospitalized. I did not hear from her for about two years after I turned 24. During that time, I uploaded our memories to a blog. I did it to calm my mind because I did not know if she was alive or dead. And when she came back two years later, I was happy. Six months later, she broke up with me. "Uploading her personal work as if she was dead" was the decisive crack for her. And she said that her own values had changed after experiencing the illness. I was devastated by all the feelings I had. How should I have dealt with my love? My love for her disappeared, but only a deep wound remained. It has been more than 10 years since then, but I still don't know. What was my love? Should I have just waited in silence for her to come back? I think that if she had not come back alive, I would not have been hurt so much. I can no longer wish for her happiness or health. And the same goes for myself. I think of my own love and the love of those who care about me as something that contains pain and deception, just as I once experienced.
Many people love, but many people are hurt and withdraw it. This is a very common phenomenon. There were other people who tried to help me, but not only did they all leave, but some even participated in the drama and bash me. I know that not everyone is like that, but in the end, if I hadn't loved someone, this would not have happened. I don't know what is normal, I don't know what to believe. My own love, someone else's love, help, everything. Living is hell.
Based on common sense, all the wounds I have received are not reasons for me to choose death. But if a person continues to be physically wounded, he or she will eventually collapse and die. Isn't the same true for the heart? Is it humane to doubt love and continue to suffer?
I am sorry you've been hurt like that. And I am wishing you the best. For me, I have decided to continue. Decided to push forward. It's a choice. Not an easy choice but a choice none the less. And I do wish you the best to continue on, and hope that though you are suffering now, you can find a way to heal and press forward.