#41 ·
Timothy Cook4 said: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.
Leave him alone. Someone dealing with all those diagnoses and medications needs peace and stability. You seem pretty unstable yourself. If you actually care about him as a human being, let him find some peace in his life.