How has it come to this? How did three and a half years of waiting, hoping and keeping blind faith bring me to this point? How could I not have come to it sooner, when all the signs had already been there for so long? And, more importantly, how can I get past it now that I’m here?
It is largely my fault that things are the way they are now. I was too blind, too weak, and too much in denial to take the bull by the horns and drive it out to pasture. At the time, all I wanted was to keep things happy and worry-free, as a parent may want to keep their child happy by doing everything for them and giving them everything on a silver spoon.
And so I continued to give. And give. And give. Until I had to learn to go without it myself, to find ways to survive, hand to mouth, month after month, just to keep things ‘happy’. I thought that, given time, things would be sorted out one way or another, and I would be able to stop worrying. But, as my luck (and my life) always turns out, I put my faith — and my eggs — in the wrong basket.
So now here I am. Three and a half years later, paying the price for something that everyone thinks is not my fault but is, in fact, very much so. Neither emotional nor indifferent, I am left in suspended animation: not knowing how to move forward, but seeing absolutely no way of going back either. All I know is that I cannot, and will not, bring this dead weight with me into yet another new year, and be beaten down by disappointment after disappointment. And the worst thing is that at this stage, there is no outlet left for any emotion, because everything — and I mean everything — has been left just a little too late.
Too late. The worst phrase ever uttered. Too late to be sorry, too late to be loving, too late to be kind. Too late to try and fix the things that went so horribly wrong, too late to say everything we wanted to but were too afraid to say. Our only hope now is to get out of this with as little fuss and pain as possible, and find new ways to move on.
I have nothing left to give.