I am good with pushing people to the point of breaking. Which is exactly what I did. Again. And I’m terribly sorry I did.
Funny thing – I wanted the truth and I got it. I pushed and prodded until I got a different answer. Answer number three for why things didn’t work out, but an answer I could work with. Something that would explain things to me. Something I could work on to improve myself. Make me better for a next time.
He tried to tame me. That would never have worked. I was as tame with him as I’ll ever be. I was as vulnerable with him as I’ll ever be. He was wonderful to me in so many ways.
And now it’s irreconcilably over. Completely obliterated by my own actions.
I fought for something I knew was wrong. But I wanted to feel good and I had that for a brief time.
I’ve pushed myself to breaking. Believing I could do it all. I can’t. I failed. From my failures I’ve learned so much. Learnings that I actually need to put into action to change finally.
Maybe this was my one great lesson to quit pushing. Maybe it was my final catharsis after being broken by my marriage and divorce. Maybe I needed to completely break apart so that I can finally rebuild – rebuild into who I have aspired to be.
Patching myself back together will certainly not be as easy as the breaking apart. It definitely can’t be more painful, so onward I trudge. Pushing only myself this time.
I came so incredibly close to having what I’ve dreamt of. Maybe with some more work on me, everything will fall into place.