How to deal with a partner's mental health crises and depression?

Richard Brooks80 said:Yes, I love him and my intention is to help him.
Regardless of the current circumstances, my feelings for him have not wavered; if anything, one could argue they have intensified, as difficult as that may seem.

He loved me long before these complications arose, and I am hopeful that his feelings toward me haven't shifted despite this crisis.
Is it even possible for a crisis or depression to fundamentally alter the core emotions a person once held for someone else?
I suppose I will find out the answer soon enough, though likely through direct and personal experience...

Yes, they absolutely can. Depression is a multifaceted disease, and when you factor in those other heavy diagnoses your partner is battling... frankly, the situation is nothing short of tragic. For me personally, it’s just devastatingly difficult.
I don't doubt a single word when you say you're willing to do anything for love, but let me be blunt: the path you're choosing is going to be filled with more thorns than you could ever have imagined. Don't get me wrong—I wouldn't abandon the love of my life for any price either—but I am stating my opinion on just how brutal this reality is.

Someone who is locked inside a depressive state, especially while juggling other severe diagnoses and grim prognoses, represents a massive burden even for the most mentally resilient person. I truly hope you find the strength to endure this and that you follow through on your promise to push through it all for the sake of love. From where I'm sitting, my only advice is this: prepare for an endless supply of patience and learn to swallow a lot of bitter pills—metaphorically speaking—that you probably didn't even know existed.

You are brave and compassionate, but listen to me: despite his intense mental and physical struggles, your primary responsibility is to protect yourself. I hope you understand what I'm getting at here—I'm not telling you to distance yourself from him, but I am telling you to care for yourself with the same intensity you are currently using to care for him. If you fail to do that, you won't be able to help him, and you will end up destroying yourself in the process.

I wish you luck, and I hope his chronic illness progresses as slowly as possible. Regarding that vomiting blood... you both should have rushed to the emergency room immediately. I'm not a medical professional, so I'm not trying to scare you, but that is a condition that demands urgent medical intervention. People don't just vomit blood because they have a messy lifestyle; that isn't something that just passes on its own.

Take care of yourself, and take care of him. 🙂

He mentioned he was going to see his doctor, but fortunately, the symptoms seemed to subside in the meantime.

I’ve been monitoring his condition closely for several days, and we’ve come to the conclusion that the vomiting blood occurred the morning after he took some Tylenol.

Regardless of our theory, once this current crisis passes—or at least settles into something more manageable—I intend to suggest that he follows through with that medical checkup.

That is, provided I am still able to stay involved in his life... if he doesn't shut me out entirely. 👎

Azure, thank you so much for your kind words of support.

I am fully aware that I am neglecting my own well-being and need to prioritize my health... I really need to work on my sensitivity and stop taking everything so personally. I don't want to find myself back in the ER with high blood pressure like I did just a couple of weeks ago.

It is a long climb to the top, but the view will be worth it!

Kudos to you—I honestly don't think I could do it. Perhaps it's because my own health isn't exactly where it should be.
I'm genuinely concerned that his struggles will eventually consume you—wrecking your life and, by extension, the lives of your children.
It feels like you’re carrying this guilt, thinking that having them with you leaves no room for him. Don't fall into that trap. You cannot shoulder all of his burdens. Your priority has to be YOU—then your kids—and only then can you worry about him.
By the first crisis, you're already losing your grip and reaching for the Tylenol. If you keep this up, you'll end up just as broken as he is.

Richard Brooks80 said:But he has already found someone capable of standing by him... me!!!
We have discussed this countless times, and I have made it abundantly clear to him that I will be right there beside him through the storms and even during the acute stages of his MS. He has expressed such sincere gratitude to me for that, showing how truly touched he was...

And now, just as the crisis reaches its peak... he has retreated entirely into himself.
Is it possible he doesn't want me to see him in such a state?
I am left with hundreds of questions and just as many different interpretations of what is happening, when all I really need is one single message from him to provide clarity.
But clearly, he isn't even in a position to find those answers for himself. He has entered a sort of self-imposed quarantine; he won't go out, he isn't contacting anyone, and he has turned off his phone... He is exhibiting the exact same behavior as someone I recently heard about who was struggling with severe depression... I don't know her personally, but a friend described it to me, and I can see the pattern is identical.

In that case, perhaps you shouldn't be quite so hard on him—or on yourself. 🧐
(I realize that is much easier said than done, but what else can I offer? It is certainly simple enough for me to just type away here, I suppose. 🤷

And now that the crisis is essentially reaching its peak... he has completely withdrawn into himself.
Is it possible he simply doesn't want me to see him in such a state?

It seems things aren't going your way, so perhaps you are inviting unnecessary trouble. Have you considered simply accepting the situation as it stands? Good grief... if there is no other way, then honestly... I am sorry if this sounds blunt or unkind. I don't need to lecture you on how difficult life can be; you likely have more experience with the cruelty of existence than most. That is why I say... try to find ways to ease his burden rather than spiraling into paranoia. 🙂

I have hundreds of questions swirling in my head, just as many interpretations of this entire situation, yet all I truly need is one single message from him to provide the answers.

But what if there are no answers? What if he doesn't know himself? With all these illnesses... when the mind is sick, it really is sick. It is similar to having the flu; you aren't capable of running around, so it is the same with these disorders. Thinking becomes a form of torture; it isn't healthy. And well... healthy people often wonder how or why someone would end their life... but it is because they are ill, plain and simple. Good morning, right? ☕

But he clearly isn't in a position to provide those answers to himself.

Well, can you provide those answers to him instead?! 🙂 And even if you could, would you actually have the right to do so?

I was actually thinking about that earlier 🕺 but I won't delete it, so you can see I am being serious... good grief, I have my own issues to deal with. Personally, I have to eject my thoughts at a hundred miles an hour (which is the complete opposite extreme) because there is just no room left inside me. I feel as though I have spent my whole life purging everything that accumulated; I tend to view depression almost like a vacation. But that is just me... it is irrelevant right now. ☕

He has essentially retreated into a sort of self-imposed quarantine. He isn't going out, he isn't reaching out to anyone, and his phone is completely off... It’s the exact same pattern I recently observed in someone struggling with a severe bout of depression... I don't know the individual personally, but a friend described the situation to me, and I suppose the behavioral patterns are identical.

I suppose one can only hope that a person maintains enough initiative and self-confidence to navigate this, regardless of how bleak the circumstances might seem.

I suspect you might be inclined to blame yourself, as if you somehow carried the weight of all this on your shoulders, though that is merely my impression—your own history with him might easily prove otherwise. After all, I assume you wouldn't have endured all this time without some semblance of strength or perhaps some internal mechanism that allows you to just "push through" it all.

If you are looking toward a long-term future here, I would suggest seeking professional help. This is a marathon, not a sprint. You would need to go together, persistently, moving slowly and maintaining a sense of tolerance for whatever outcomes may arise—whether they are good or entirely futile. Now is the time to see what kind of people you truly are; they say adversity reveals a person's true character. 👋

p.s. I opted against taking pills from the very beginning. I am certain things were much harder for me in the early stages because of that choice, and everything comes with a price. It is impossible to speculate on how much worse it might have been if I had simply taken everything they offered me... instead, I chose to focus more on my health. I focused on my physical well-being where possible and, generally speaking, on life itself, and I am holding steady. When I reach that point where I "just can't anymore," the entire world seems to vanish. There is nothing left. I find I have to disregard every feeling of responsibility and obligation just to reset myself and get back to living the way I want to live. Anything else feels like a slow descent into total self-destruction. 🙂

Richard Brooks80 said:He mentioned he was going to see his doctor, but fortunately, the symptoms seemed to subside in the meantime.

I’ve been monitoring his condition closely for several days, and we’ve come to the conclusion that the vomiting blood occurred the morning after he took some Tylenol.

Regardless of our theory, once this current crisis passes—or at least settles into something more manageable—I intend to suggest that he follows through with that medical checkup.

That is, provided I am still able to stay involved in his life... if he doesn't shut me out entirely. 👎

Azure, thank you so much for your kind words of support.

I am fully aware that I am neglecting my own well-being and need to prioritize my health... I really need to work on my sensitivity and stop taking everything so personally. I don't want to find myself back in the ER with high blood pressure like I did just a couple of weeks ago.

It is a long climb to the top, but the view will be worth it!

Just hang in there, don't be like me, 🙂 impatient 😵

Michelle Murphy61 said:Kudos to you—I honestly don't think I could do it. Perhaps it's because my own health isn't exactly where it should be.
I'm genuinely concerned that his struggles will eventually consume you—wrecking your life and, by extension, the lives of your children.
It feels like you’re carrying this guilt, thinking that having them with you leaves no room for him. Don't fall into that trap. You cannot shoulder all of his burdens. Your priority has to be YOU—then your kids—and only then can you worry about him.
By the first crisis, you're already losing your grip and reaching for the Tylenol. If you keep this up, you'll end up just as broken as he is.

I understand, and I am doing my level best to ensure the kids don't realize we are in a bit of a bind, but... they aren't little anymore, you know? They see that he hasn't been around for weeks, even though he used to drop by every single afternoon.

They really took to him; he was so kind, and they got along famously...

Naturally, my children are my top priority. What kind of mother would I be if I felt guilty about them being with me instead of him? Their place is by my side until they can find their own way in the world... only then can they move on to someone else.

As the saying goes, where there is no friction, there is no progress. Life is rarely smooth sailing.
But well... this is simply the reality we are facing right now.

Richard Brooks80 said:I hope I have come to the right place to share my concerns.

We have been together for about six months. We are both divorced, and we have both crossed the threshold of forty.
In the beginning, our relationship felt almost flawless. We spent nearly twenty-four hours a day together, excluding the eight hours I was at work. He essentially moved into my place, and we shared everything.
Even before our relationship became official—back when we were just seeing each other for coffee—he was completely transparent about his medical history, which is quite extensive. Beyond "minor" issues like migraines, back pain following surgery, and gastrointestinal problems that caused him to vomit blood in the mornings, his primary struggles are multiple sclerosis and PTSD.
I entered this relationship with a full understanding of the challenges ahead. We fell in love, and I truly believed I possessed the fortitude required to navigate his illnesses. I was prepared to care for him even if he eventually required a wheelchair, and I aimed to provide the tranquil environment such patients need (his home life is quite strained, which unfortunately exacerbates his condition).
Initially, we functioned beautifully, but it turns out that managing his PTSD is a much harder nut to crack. The crises began as early as November; they started in a milder form, but they wouldn't subside. I suspect the situation was complicated by the fact that we had less time together, as my children returned home from their seasonal jobs, leaving very little space in my small apartment for everyone.
He became increasingly depressed, sleeping more frequently and relying heavily on medication. Day by day, his therapy became more intensive, and he faced financial difficulties due to some unavoidable circumstances. It feels as though everything in his life began to spiral downward, leaving me as his sole source of light and stability.
He made every effort not to make me feel neglected; he always stepped up whenever I needed assistance, even when he was visibly under the influence of his medication—often literally falling asleep on my lap, lethargic and dejected.
More and more often, he would simply stay home to lie down and sleep. Nothing seemed to bring him joy anymore, though he tried—entirely for my sake. At times, I lacked the necessary patience and found myself being critical of him. Looking back, I realize I should have been more understanding, but I struggled to navigate such an overwhelming situation.
We haven't seen each other in three weeks. I spoke with his best friend, who has tried numerous times to coax him out of the house just for a coffee, but without success. As the New Year approached, he sent me a message saying that something had happened and that he needed to be alone to reflect deeply, because his decision would affect the rest of his life... himself, me, and others. These are heavy, almost euphoric words coming from someone who is under sedation 24 hours a day, taking Xanax, various pills, and I can't recall the rest.
Is he withdrawing into himself to protect me from the burden of his illness? Because in addition to these psychological struggles, he recently suffered a fall and briefly lost sensation in his legs.
Both of his previous marriages ended because his ex-wives could not cope with his health issues.
Is this somehow a test to see if I have the stamina to endure?
I am certain that a mental health crisis is the root cause of all this. This isn't his first one, according to his friend, who advises me to remain patient and suggests that he will return to me once this period passes.
If he intended to end things with me, I believe he would tell me directly rather than retreating so quietly. His last message to me was simply, "Please, wait for me a little while..."
I am being patient, and I love him; I intend to wait. But there are days when I feel like I am coming apart at the seams, and I find myself needing my own medication. I don't want to give up on him or on us. He needs me, and I need him.
Has anyone else navigated a relationship like this, or experienced a phase like this in a partnership?
I would appreciate any advice you might offer.

I’m currently on a cocktail of antipsychotics and antidepressants, and honestly? I don’t feel a damn thing for life anymore. No joy, no heartache, nothing... just this heavy, dead sensation inside. It feels completely pointless to try and date anyone while I’m stuck in this headspace. Honestly, maybe you should just step back from him until you can get your own head straight, because if you stay like this, you're just going to end up in a cycle of constant guilt...

Brandon Mitchell said:I’m currently on a cocktail of antipsychotics and antidepressants, and honestly? I don’t feel a damn thing for life anymore. No joy, no heartache, nothing... just this heavy, dead sensation inside. It feels completely pointless to try and date anyone while I’m stuck in this headspace. Honestly, maybe you should just step back from him until you can get your own head straight, because if you stay like this, you're just going to end up in a cycle of constant guilt...

It isn't my responsibility to pull away; he is the one who has effectively distanced himself from me.

The only place where I truly need to create that distance is within my own mind.

Moving on with the heart is always the more difficult path... it tends to hold onto hope much longer than logic does.

Richard Brooks80 said:It isn't my responsibility to pull away; he is the one who has effectively distanced himself from me.

The only place where I truly need to create that distance is within my own mind.

Moving on with the heart is always the more difficult path... it tends to hold onto hope much longer than logic does.

Same thing here, the battle between my head and my heart... this past weekend was honestly the worst one of my life, to the point where I just wanted to swallow every pill I had and end it all...
Richard, check your PMs, sent you an email.

We are moving forward steadily, one day at a time, one step at a time.
The messages have started coming through...
Things remain quite difficult... he was prescribed additional antipsychotics and antidepressants.
There are also some extra complications that I had suspected, which have now been confirmed.
Our next milestone will be coffee... slowly... we will get there...
The tunnel is long and the darkness surrounds us, but we will reach the light eventually.

Richard Brooks80 said:We are moving forward steadily, one day at a time, one step at a time.
The messages have started coming through...
Things remain quite difficult... he was prescribed additional antipsychotics and antidepressants.
There are also some extra complications that I had suspected, which have now been confirmed.
Our next milestone will be coffee... slowly... we will get there...
The tunnel is long and the darkness surrounds us, but we will reach the light eventually.

Just navigating the thorns right now, hanging in there... hoping things start looking up for me too....
even if it's just getting a response to a work text, man, what an absolute jerk....

Let the silence be my only voice tonight
an empty space beside my words instead of us
and if I could, I'd lay my living heart upon your palm right now

To be quite honest, I have been in a relationship for about six months now with a man who relies on heavy-duty antidepressants alongside several other ongoing medications. His history is quite heavy; he has struggled with severe depression, made a few suicide attempts, and even underwent neurosurgery to address issues with his brain chemistry—I seem to have forgotten the specific medical term for that procedure, though perhaps someone here might recognize it. All of this occurred before we met, so when he entered my life, he was already navigating these pharmaceutical supports. He is the kind of person who feels an urgent need to stay constantly occupied just to keep his own thoughts at bay, largely because he struggles deeply with self-satisfaction. Over time, however, he has worked hard to manage his anger and ensure he never engages in physical confrontations.
Following some turmoil caused by a third party who refused to respect our relationship, his demeanor shifted significantly. Because I am certainly no expert in psychology, I began misinterpreting his periods of withdrawal as typical male behaviors—assuming things like infidelity or a simple lack of interest. Despite his emotional distance, and despite my constant pressure on him, he remained adamant that he did not want to end the relationship.

We eventually broke up, but only after I badgered him thirty different times one evening while we were out in a crowded place, asking if he truly wanted to end things. Now, I find the aftermath much more difficult than the relationship itself. Perhaps most painfully, I allowed a third person—who turned out to be a toxic influence—to poison my perception of him.
For the past month, I have been sending him several messages every single day. We still see each other once a week at his workplace, but he is understandably angry with me due to my constant texting and what he describes as my "psychotic state." Yes, my own psychotic state.
The truth is, I never actually wanted this breakup; I am still far too in love with him... currently, he is simply waiting for me to calm down and stop driving him to the brink with these incessant messages...

Could someone please help me make sense of his behavior or offer some guidance? I would specifically value input from someone who has actually lived through clinical depression and managed medication. Treating him like an "average guy" without acknowledging his mental health reality has led us into these profound difficulties.

So, what’s his actual diagnosis?

He is struggling with severe depression at the moment and is currently tapering off his Zyprexa medication. He has dealt with several suicide attempts and underwent brain surgery—specifically a resection to remove a small piece of tissue, though I must admit the exact medical term escapes my memory right now. This led to significant issues with aggressive outbursts directed toward certain people in his life, but thankfully, his current therapy has helped stabilize him somewhat.
As you can see, I am not entirely well-versed in the clinical details; after everything that transpired, I didn't want to dwell on those dark moments while we were actually happy together, especially since he is already so profoundly dissatisfied with himself in every possible way.
The depression is certainly there. As for whether there is an official diagnosis beyond that—I don't believe so—but he is undoubtedly dealing with far more complications than I am. While I also struggle with depression, mine feels less like a clinical pathology and more like a persistent mental state born from constant overthinking and a chronic lack of self-confidence.

Jonathan Hayes said:So, what’s his actual diagnosis?

Timothy Cook4 said:To be quite honest, I have been in a relationship for about six months now with a man who relies on heavy-duty antidepressants alongside several other ongoing medications. His history is quite heavy; he has struggled with severe depression, made a few suicide attempts, and even underwent neurosurgery to address issues with his brain chemistry—I seem to have forgotten the specific medical term for that procedure, though perhaps someone here might recognize it. All of this occurred before we met, so when he entered my life, he was already navigating these pharmaceutical supports. He is the kind of person who feels an urgent need to stay constantly occupied just to keep his own thoughts at bay, largely because he struggles deeply with self-satisfaction. Over time, however, he has worked hard to manage his anger and ensure he never engages in physical confrontations.
Following some turmoil caused by a third party who refused to respect our relationship, his demeanor shifted significantly. Because I am certainly no expert in psychology, I began misinterpreting his periods of withdrawal as typical male behaviors—assuming things like infidelity or a simple lack of interest. Despite his emotional distance, and despite my constant pressure on him, he remained adamant that he did not want to end the relationship.

We eventually broke up, but only after I badgered him thirty different times one evening while we were out in a crowded place, asking if he truly wanted to end things. Now, I find the aftermath much more difficult than the relationship itself. Perhaps most painfully, I allowed a third person—who turned out to be a toxic influence—to poison my perception of him.
For the past month, I have been sending him several messages every single day. We still see each other once a week at his workplace, but he is understandably angry with me due to my constant texting and what he describes as my "psychotic state." Yes, my own psychotic state.
The truth is, I never actually wanted this breakup; I am still far too in love with him... currently, he is simply waiting for me to calm down and stop driving him to the brink with these incessant messages...

Could someone please help me make sense of his behavior or offer some guidance? I would specifically value input from someone who has actually lived through clinical depression and managed medication. Treating him like an "average guy" without acknowledging his mental health reality has led us into these profound difficulties.

Was that part of his psychiatric treatment? Psychosurgery is prohibited under US federal law.

Yes, I am aware. To be perfectly honest, we have never truly discussed that specific detail—namely, the brain surgery. We simply paused our conversation at the points I elaborated on slightly more extensively above.
Given my familiarity with the full extent of his other physical traumas, I can confirm that he was never diagnosed with osteoma, nor did he ever require neurosurgery for any other reason.

Michelle Evans said:Was that part of his psychiatric treatment? Psychosurgery is prohibited under US federal law.

Based on how you’ve described this relationship—it's pretty clear you're the common denominator here. You listened to outside noise instead of trusting your partner, triggered the breakup yourself, and now you're still causing him grief.

I suppose you have a valid point there. It is simply that, in hindsight, I had no way of discerning whether his behavior was stemming from his own mental struggles or if he was actually being unfaithful. However, I cannot deny that you are right. I find myself feeling an immense sense of regret, and quite frankly, I am struggling to find any semblance of peace within myself at this moment.

Michelle Murphy61 said:Based on how you’ve described this relationship—it's pretty clear you're the common denominator here. You listened to outside noise instead of trusting your partner, triggered the breakup yourself, and now you're still causing him grief.

Timothy Cook4 said:To be quite honest, I have been in a relationship for about six months now with a man who relies on heavy-duty antidepressants alongside several other ongoing medications. His history is quite heavy; he has struggled with severe depression, made a few suicide attempts, and even underwent neurosurgery to address issues with his brain chemistry—I seem to have forgotten the specific medical term for that procedure, though perhaps someone here might recognize it. All of this occurred before we met, so when he entered my life, he was already navigating these pharmaceutical supports. He is the kind of person who feels an urgent need to stay constantly occupied just to keep his own thoughts at bay, largely because he struggles deeply with self-satisfaction. Over time, however, he has worked hard to manage his anger and ensure he never engages in physical confrontations.
Following some turmoil caused by a third party who refused to respect our relationship, his demeanor shifted significantly. Because I am certainly no expert in psychology, I began misinterpreting his periods of withdrawal as typical male behaviors—assuming things like infidelity or a simple lack of interest. Despite his emotional distance, and despite my constant pressure on him, he remained adamant that he did not want to end the relationship.

We eventually broke up, but only after I badgered him thirty different times one evening while we were out in a crowded place, asking if he truly wanted to end things. Now, I find the aftermath much more difficult than the relationship itself. Perhaps most painfully, I allowed a third person—who turned out to be a toxic influence—to poison my perception of him.
For the past month, I have been sending him several messages every single day. We still see each other once a week at his workplace, but he is understandably angry with me due to my constant texting and what he describes as my "psychotic state." Yes, my own psychotic state.
The truth is, I never actually wanted this breakup; I am still far too in love with him... currently, he is simply waiting for me to calm down and stop driving him to the brink with these incessant messages...

Could someone please help me make sense of his behavior or offer some guidance? I would specifically value input from someone who has actually lived through clinical depression and managed medication. Treating him like an "average guy" without acknowledging his mental health reality has led us into these profound difficulties.

Just stop harassing him.

Timothy Cook4 said:To be quite honest, I have been in a relationship for about six months now with a man who relies on heavy-duty antidepressants alongside several other ongoing medications. His history is quite heavy; he has struggled with severe depression, made a few suicide attempts, and even underwent neurosurgery to address issues with his brain chemistry—I seem to have forgotten the specific medical term for that procedure, though perhaps someone here might recognize it. All of this occurred before we met, so when he entered my life, he was already navigating these pharmaceutical supports. He is the kind of person who feels an urgent need to stay constantly occupied just to keep his own thoughts at bay, largely because he struggles deeply with self-satisfaction. Over time, however, he has worked hard to manage his anger and ensure he never engages in physical confrontations.
Following some turmoil caused by a third party who refused to respect our relationship, his demeanor shifted significantly. Because I am certainly no expert in psychology, I began misinterpreting his periods of withdrawal as typical male behaviors—assuming things like infidelity or a simple lack of interest. Despite his emotional distance, and despite my constant pressure on him, he remained adamant that he did not want to end the relationship.

We eventually broke up, but only after I badgered him thirty different times one evening while we were out in a crowded place, asking if he truly wanted to end things. Now, I find the aftermath much more difficult than the relationship itself. Perhaps most painfully, I allowed a third person—who turned out to be a toxic influence—to poison my perception of him.
For the past month, I have been sending him several messages every single day. We still see each other once a week at his workplace, but he is understandably angry with me due to my constant texting and what he describes as my "psychotic state." Yes, my own psychotic state.
The truth is, I never actually wanted this breakup; I am still far too in love with him... currently, he is simply waiting for me to calm down and stop driving him to the brink with these incessant messages...

Could someone please help me make sense of his behavior or offer some guidance? I would specifically value input from someone who has actually lived through clinical depression and managed medication. Treating him like an "average guy" without acknowledging his mental health reality has led us into these profound difficulties.

Stop using his "illness" as an excuse for the fact that he just doesn't love you the way you want him to.

No, that isn't quite the crux of the matter. He truly loved me in the most profound sense imaginable, right up until the moment all that infidelity and third-party nonsense began. After a certain point, he started to drift away, though a breakup was never even a consideration on his part; it only fell apart because I was the one who finally reached my breaking point.
It strikes me as somewhat absurd, and frankly, quite baffling, that ever since I've known him, he has insisted on labeling himself as "emo." He talks about being emotionally numb—as if he could just take a Xanax and switch off—claiming he feels absolutely nothing, yet when it came to me, he was capable of genuine connection and would let his guard down, something he still doesn't deny today. But once the betrayal started, he simply retreated behind this impenetrable emotional wall.
He has his own little obsessions, those private escapes where he hides from the rest of the world. Honestly, at this stage, he’s likely too checked out to notice if an alien spacecraft were to land right in the middle of Times Square.
All things considered, it is incredibly difficult, because any other man would have just been blunt and said, "I don't care anymore," or "We're done."
But with him... it feels like waiting for Godot while he remains locked in this solitary, internal struggle against himself.
It is heavy, and the truth is, I love him. I am still caught in this limbo, unsure if this is truly the final goodbye or not. I find myself struggling with the uncertainty; my entire worldview tends to be very black and white, and then he arrives, complicating everything with his endless shades of gray.