“How will you know when I’m doing so much better?”

“I won’t know.  I don’t want to be a part of your life.  I am not willing to support you through this any longer.  You’ve used me up and shit on me, and I have nothing left.”

“But I still want you, I’m not giving up.”

“Well, when you think you are worthy of me, when you think you have changed enough to be of value in my life, let me know and we can talk.  It won’t be for months.  Maybe a year.  And chances are, that we’ll have both moved on by then.  You’ll find someone else to support you with more compassion through your recovery if you continue with it.  It’s natural.  You’ll want to share your new self with someone.”

“No!  I only want you!  And you’re mine, I don’t want you to be with any one else, ever.”

“Well, unfortunately, you’ve given up that option by breaking me down to this.  I was ready to be with you forever, until the day I die, to sacrifice so much for you.  And you didn’t value that.”  Not 10 years ago, not 5 years ago or 3 years ago or one year ago or last June.  In fact, he didn’t value that yesterday.  After all the support and patience and strength I have given him since 12/20, since 2/11, he didn’t value me STILL BEING HERE yesterday.

Thus, I am done.

The clinical way I present this to him must hurt.  The lack of emotions, lack of caring I feel and portray, it must hurt.

It must hurt one fraction of the way his lack of remorse, shame, outward “caring” has hurt me when I ask him about the frequent cheating with prostitutes.

 

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