Tuesday, 13 February 2018

How it ended

Alternatively titled: Why you shouldn't gamble anything you aren't prepared to lose.

I loved him. He was adamant he didn't love me.

I was pretty sure he did and just wasn't comfortable admitting it.

So I gambled.

I told him it worried me how adamant he was that he didn't love me and that I felt I deserved to be loved. I told him I was happy, but I hoped he would love me one day and if I ever gave up on that hope, we'd have to break up.

I hoped he would reflect on it, and the potential end of our relationship and he would be distressed enough by the concept to re-evaluate the nature of his emotions.

Instead of feeling pain or worry at the prospect of losing us, whatever he felt spurred him on to break up with me sooner rather than waiting for me to do it later.

I accused him of cowardice because, at the time, I still thought he was just denying that he loved me and having control of things (i.e. instigating the break up) is one of his ways of avoiding distress.

But no. I still hurt, but have to acknowledge the more likely truth is that he doesn't love me. Never has and never will.

It's easier to accuse him of cowardice than admit that I'm fundamentally unlovable.

So yeah. Don't gamble, kids.

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