I wrote an answer, trying to be brief. I wanted to say so much, try to convey how I felt, but I couldn’t, wouldn’t, because I didn’t want him to feel what I feel. It’s been a difficult time, but not altogether surprising. We’ve been here before but this time it feels different, more final. Of course it has to be this way, I have to give.
Destroying and loving at the same time, not realizing the dangerous part because you’re overwhelmed with feelings of love, or ignoring the predictable outcome was how it went, my fault. I realize that now, now that it’s much too late for just I’m sorry. I am of course, not only for what has happened but also for myself, because I’m here again, in a lonely place. The saddest fact of all is that he is also.
Whoever said that love is a two edged sword was correct. It can be the door to happiness or the door to despair. I would say the description is overly dramatic, but anyone who has really loved another may have felt both emotions. Love itself is difficult. It’s not a fairytale or fantasy, a play, or movie. It’s probably more truthful in a book, when the author has been through both aspects of love.
Tennyson’s ” ’tis better to have loved….”. If that’s true, why do I feel so badly?