Something that has haunted me since ending my marriage and realising in hindsight that I could’ve stayed and tried much longer than I did, is knowing when to give up. I never wanted to give up too soon again. But it brought with it the question… how does one know when it’s truly over? I don’t think there’s a “one answer” to this. I believe it’s as much of an individual answer as there are people.
So then… when is my “moment,” and would I recognise it when it arrived?
“I need You to tell me to give up,” I said.
‘But I still want cuddles and affection,’ He said.
‘I’m just making it harder on you aren’t I.’
I pause. I can’t keep doing this.
“It’s simple,” I say. “Do I give up?”
‘FUCK.’
‘I don’t think I can say those words today to you.’
“Ok.” The usual flicker of hope reignites inside me.
‘But that’s not fair either. And I don’t want to torture you. I want to protect you and keep you safe.’
‘He didn’t say it,’ whispers the flicker.
“I know,” I say to Him.
“You don’t need to say it today.”
“When you’re ready, that’s what I need.”
Sitting in heartbreak is horrendous. Trying to navigate that heartbreak with the person breaking your heart, is even worse. Especially when you know they’re essentially a good person, and really truly don’t actually want to be hurting you. The lack of control at being able to understand why something broken can’t be fixed, is soul shattering.
Somewhere throughout last night and this morning I realised something. We’ve been travelling different paths. I have been thinking we were trying to work out how we could make this work. He’s been trying to decide if He loves me. Ouch.
There’s no room for hope left in the space between us. There’s nothing to be angry about. He’s a good man. Great, actually. He stayed and tried so hard. I tried so hard too.
Sometimes trying isn’t enough.
I realised today that I don’t need to hear those words… and He can’t say them. It’s not His responsibility to tell me to let go. It’s mine to own.
So, I have given *myself* permission to give up… to let go.
How do I know it’s time?
Because I am at peace with the decision. It’s not made out of anger. It’s not made out of fear. It’s not made from a desire to inflict hurt. It’s made out of love and respect and understanding for U/us both.
My heart is full of grief and sadness for all of the hope that was. But that’s ok. Hope is a beautiful thing. It never ceases unless we choose for it to.
This journey has shown me so many areas of healing I still need, and so many areas in which I’ve come so far. It has been such a blessing of growth and companionship and friendship and care. But it’s time to stop flogging a dead horse, and face the reality.
This seems like a good song to our ending:
