LogFAQs > #978736865

February 8th, 2024

I'm mad.

I don't know any other way to really phrase it. Mad isn't exactly it and usually I am far more eloquent than this but I'm mad. I'm frustrated, I'm angry, I'm disappointed, all of it.

I'm mad that you left me. I've always insulated myself with a logic to all of this. Even now as I write this I realize how ridiculous that notion is. I'm mad that you were dying. I'm mad that you chose to die earlier than you had to. I'm mad that I fell in love with the most amazing woman in the world only for us to be able to be together for like... maybe a fifth of my life? Maybe less than that? You got a third of your life with me Lindsay. A THIRD of your life was spent with the man you loved, and I got way less than that.

I feel like a child whose mad that his piece of cake was smaller than his friends'.

I'm mad that I have to try to find something that even pales in comparison to what you gave me. Logically I know things were hard. I gave up so many things I wanted in my life to ensure that you and your complexity were taken care of. Now I have to search for someone who would ever make me feel like that again. Regardless of how healthy it was or what it did to me, that is how much I loved and adored you. And I know you felt the same because while I gave up so many things to be with you, you suffered for YEARS and YEARS to be with me. I'm mad that I had to give that up so quickly. I'm mad that it was the best option to make and I'm mad that I'm mad about it.

I'm disappointed in myself that this makes me mad. I know I'm allowed to feel feelings. I know I have to in order to heal and I don't fear feelings... but I trained myself for so long to push mine aside. What did it matter if it was difficult for me to take care of you when you had to LIVE through it? I experienced a tenth of the utter misery you experienced. I never wanted you to see my struggles because I know you would blame yourself. You told me constantly that I should leave you, that this was going to be a sad ending, that we wouldn't get to live together for decades. How could I ever begin to even talk with you about the struggles I went through when you would only blame yourself? So I trained myself to push my feelings aside, to ignore them, to shame myself for having them. I'm mad that is how I learned to deal with the worst of our situation and that anger still shames me to this day. I'm working on it, I have a meeting with my therapist in a week to work on it more. I spoke about this all with my mom for the first time today.

I don't typically talk with others about these feeling; the shame often stops me before I even start. I'm mad that we didn't get what we wanted. What we deserved. What so many others take for granted as being a given. I'm mad that I have to search for it all again. I'm mad that you got to die hand in hand with the love of your life and maybe I die alone.

And I'm mad I didn't get one more day with you despite it all.