“Feelings are just that, feelings; you need to use your brain.” — my therapist
I think I am at the edge of breaking down; it seems like I have been getting rid of things around me and now, I am finally left alone. When the outside world silences down, the real struggle within begins. I. Such a simple letter, yet it commands so much determination and rationality. When in doubt, I replay Kant like a mantra:” Habe Mut, dich deines eigenen Verstandes zu bedienen!” I repeat to myself: this is the best I can do now, I just need to continue. Bird by bird. Stone by stone. Breath by breath. Eventually I will get there.
It was a hard decision. But I cannot disillusion myself any longer. My only regret is that I should have finished the job in January/February. I gave it a second go, so that things would be painfully undeniable: Love is this anxious child between us, always seeking affirmation and consolation. It has to be the joint account. It has to be marriage. It has to be the ring. It has to be NOW. Nothing else suffices. It forces, demands, coerces, until both of us are cornered. When do we know, how do we know, if enough is enough? Were we so much tortured, that all we could cling on to was the pathetic verbal yes? Did we long run out of love?
Maybe I am a difficult person: I am moody, secretly selfish, notoriously controlling: I have to rule my uterus and my life. This much I was certain. I find it hard to rely on anyone, because “we are never so vulnerable as when we love, and never so hopelessly unhappy as when we lose the object of our love.” The guilt. The constant self-questioning. The neurotic moods. The phantom pain. The numerous noise. All has to be sealed perfectly underneath the veil of silent composure. Fake it until you make it, right?
It was never easy, but it was necessary. If you read this, I broke my heart into pieces, not for my family, my grad school, but for me. Ain’t nobody gonna force me into nothing, no more, in the name of love.