It wasn’t by choice. It was a forced hand… a barrier that I wasn’t able to shift on my own.
Do I feel defeated? Yes. Do I feel wounded? Yes. Do I still love you? Tremendously. Do I feel like so much could have been prevented? Yes.
I was told the thing that fueled me as an athlete and pushed me forward with a drive to conquer and never give up… is the same thing that keeps me trying when I should release and not hold on so long, clinging to hope and the beauty I saw and felt.
It’s that fuel that pushed me and blinded me to the darkness of a battle that I wasn’t equipped to fight.
It’s the fuel that kept me trying to save someone that couldn’t see saving himself.
It’s the fuel of reminders and gratitude that I once needed and gleaned from others when I needed their strength to stand while I healed and recovered my own.
You’ll never know the amount of tears of love and joy that started to become overshadowed by tears of pain and unexplainable, unexpected, and unrecognizable moments of scenes unfolding before me.
To see you hurt from issues that weren’t my fault, hurt. You don’t want to see the person you love hurt.
No longer feeling like a willing participant but more of a hamster on a wheel gaining no ground only miles in territory I didn’t choose to venture into.
Love. It sours when your partners fears and pain trump his faith and hope.
Love. It’s flames of new beginnings and glimmers of memories never to be forgotten can be smothered when not stoked properly.
The flames should warm you internally and externally, not push you to flee and become an arson in the lives of others that are temporary distractions from your demons.
Fighting with an internal fire, I tried to carry us both.
But you gained strength and traded love and hope for pride, isolation, selfishness, lust, lies, lack of accountability and anything that kept away the reflection of a healthy, loving version of yourself in me.
Now I’m the enemy. The easy target from a Self work refusing to be done.
And it wasn’t until I had no other resource but the barrier of solid ground, a bleeding heart, and a memory that claims my sleep that I released now I’m broken too.
In order to save my life, I have to let go of the despair in you. And it’s not because I wanted to. I simply had no choice because of YOU fought what was so clearly felt by us and those around us.
Now, the goal is to rebuild and heal the broken pieces of me.