Home » A disease-Giving Husband » Who Said “Love Never Dies?”

Who Said “Love Never Dies?”

“Love never dies.”  I’ve heard that phrase before and I heard it again just the other day.  Maybe you think love never dies but I can tell you for a fact, it does.
Maybe it met its demise because it didn’t exist to begin with.  Maybe it died from lack of nourishment.  Love needs to be cultivated.  It needs to be returned.  Like any other living thing, it needs attention and affection.
Love does indeed die.  Love can in fact, be killed.

I think about how many times Loser treated me like a common whore.  The first time was when he tried to buy my forgiveness with flowers, gifts and promises of trips.  My forgiveness wasn’t for sale.  He thought money and what money could buy was an apology.  My “love” for him was sick.
What I wanted was an earnest conversation.  I wanted him to tell me that he understood what he had done to me and how much he had hurt me.  I wanted him to tell me that he would never do it again.  I wanted him to stop taking me out to dinner and then, inside an hour start talking to me like I was garbage because I interrupted him while he was on his computer.
I think he finally understood that I couldn’t be bought so he decided to put those efforts into somebody who obviously could be bought.  My “love” for him was getting even sicker.
The second time he treated me like a common whore was when he thought he was going to be able to keep his WTC, then sneak around and “play husband” to me on the side…and get to keep all of his money.  He was going to have the best of all possible worlds.  My “love” for him was almost comatose and was starting to die.

Loser was the man I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with.  Loser was the man I waited for years and years to show me just a tad of affection and attention.  Loser was the father of my children.
I spent almost my entire marriage, hoping that someday…after he “reached the top” there would be time for me.  I thought he would then have time to treat me the way he should have treated me all along.
He finally made it to the “top” but didn’t treat his employees or employers any better than he treated me, so he was fired.  I guess in a way I fired him, too.  People can only take so much before they tell you to “go fuck yourself.”
My “love” for him was having agonal breathing.
When the divorce was in full swing and he wrote what he did about me in his affidavit, my “love” for him died a violent death and morphed into an intense hatred.  Even the “I still love you and I always have” message in his last text did nothing to assuage that hatred.  I think it made me hate him even more.

I have hated before and still do.  I hate Losers’ fucking mama.  I hate Loser to the point that I literally cringe when I think about him.  I think about his reaction of insouciance to the pictures and notes I have been getting, reminding me that “he belongs to her now…and how she’s looking forward to spending time with MY children.”
He looks at it as an ego boost.  It shows how much this WTC “loves him.”  Jealousy is attractive to him.

I understand and agree with the old adage “the opposite of love is indifference” but there are exceptions.  How can you be indifferent toward somebody who used you and treated you like you only had value to give them an avenue to do whatever and go wherever they wanted, free from any and all encumbrances?  How can you be indifferent toward somebody who literally destroyed forty-one years of your life?  How can you be indifferent to a man who intentionally passed on an incurable disease to you and doesn’t care because his WTC (according to him) already has it, so…no problem for him…or her…and no need for guilt?

Any love my mama had for me died after I killed my little brother and she never let me forget it.  I’ve heard that there’s nothing stronger than a mothers’ love but it’s not true.  Any love I had for her eventually died, too.  I don’t even know at what point.  I just know that it did.

Love does indeed die, for many reasons and there is nothing deader than a dead love.

Love that has been killed leaves a wound and a horrific scar that is a constant reminder of the misnomer…”love never dies.”

10 thoughts on “Who Said “Love Never Dies?”

  1. When that incident happened ,the adults very well knew who was responsible but were unable to face the consequences so they found a defenseless child to carry the blame.

    Look at this way,if your mother would have given a loaded gun to your brother to play,and inadvertently, whilst playing with it, you lifted the safety catch and a mishap occured who is to blame ?The adult should have known better.

    And, it could very well have been you that ate those pills, or it could have been both of you.

    Any othe mother , would have been thankful and grateful that she did not lose both her children to that insanely stupid and irresponsible act of hers.And you dad , he should have been man enough to protect his daughter from her mom’s blame shifting.He didn’t.

    Why do you let all the people in your life leave their mark on you?Why do you give them a pass for their shitty behavior by taking responsibility for their behavior ? Why do you enable them ?

    You are amazingly intelligent and talented.Please value yourself and stop being a victim.

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    • Why I let these people leave their mark on me is an excellent question. I never looked at it as enabling them but I think you may be right. Maybe that’s something that my new therapist can help me work through. Maybe I felt like I wasn’t allowed to stand up to these people. I remember Loser asking me why I wanted to keep standing up just so he could “knock me back down.” And, my poor daddy…he didn’t know the whole picture because he was hardly ever around. My children suffer from the same thing…lack of being informed. They just assume and wrongly blame me for things. They have formed an opinion based on a picture that is not complete. Sigh.

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  2. ” Water seeks it’s own level”…….Man whore Loser was looking for female whores……You were too good for him. Men who like being in the gutter need women who are comfortable in that décor. He needs to “own it “……..PS…You didn’t kill your brother, his mother accidently killed him and wasn’t woman enough to “own it”, so she cowardly let a child carry that weight her entire life. Her Pearly Gates problem, not yours.

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    • That is true…water seeks it’s own level. Maybe that’s why I was never who he really wanted. I was never going to be comfortable screwing somebody elses’ husband or hanging out in bars every night. Stupid me…I thought he was supposed to be faithful and come home to spend time with his wife and children. That’s what I get for thinking. LOL

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  3. For the sake of you. I am begging you to change your personal narrative. Stop saying you killed your brother. Because you didn’t. I don’t care what she believed or that it’s how she framed it in her head. And I know that you actually feel you were responsible. But one of the best best best ways to start moving towards healing is to use different words to tell the story. Find another way to say it, which stops attacking yourself. ‘Blamed me for my brothers death’, ‘thought I was the cause’… You internalize this huge role and you obviously hold all the blame. Again- you were nothing but a child. You couldn’t have known. She’s the mom who thought a bottle full of pills was an appropriate toy for children. Seriously? How messed up is that. To make you carry the weight of it is the most selfish cruel thing she could ever have done. She didn’t deserve children she didn’t deserve your love. You are wonderful. Just try saying it a different way. See what happens

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    • I understand what you’re saying. There are so many “what ifs.” What if mama hadn’t given him that bottle to play with? He’d have lived. What if I hadn’t figured out how to open the bottle? He’d have lived. What if he hadn’t eaten them? He’d have lived.
      My daughters love to tell me to “own it.” I guess that’s what I’ve been doing…owning it. A childs’ mind is a delicate, impressionable thing. Even though I didn’t know what I had done, I knew I had done something really wrong.
      My adult mind “owns it.” It’s pretty casual, actually. It was a relief when I found out because it answered a question. I finally knew why mama hated me. I don’t know how else to present it. If I was trying to explain to my children what happened to their uncle, I couldn’t just say “he died.” They would want a reason. I could tell them that he ate a bottle of aspirin and they (being very smart) would want to know why he did it. Then what? They all know and didn’t really say anything nor did Loser. My children had so much more to be mad at me about to let a little thing like that take priority.
      All those “ifs” are moot. He died. Would it suffice to say “I used to have a little brother and he died?”

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      • Are your daughters saying own this? Or something else? Because I don’t think anyone sane could hold you responsible for this. You don’t own this. Yes, there are a ton of what ifs.because it was a stupid senseless accident. I’m absolutely certain that your mom was an adult, and your brother was a child and you were a slight older child. How the hell were you to know that what was rattling inside was trouble? You would have assumed the exact opposite because mothers should never put dangerous things in the hands of their infant children, regardless of them having a cap which is locking. She’s the grown up. She shouldn’t have given it to him, whip smart sister or not. He could have banged it, or somehow by luck gotten it open. Or he could have had a toy, because an aspirin bottle is not a toy. This thing which happened… Can be explained a lot of ways but saying you killed him is probably the most inaccurate description I can fathom. ‘My brother got into aspirin and died’ that’s all that matters. My grandma had a baby a year or two after my mom. Archie was born in the winter, and their farm was accessible by car, but was far from town. but it broke down coming home and Archie caught a cold and died. Does my grandma say ‘Elmer killed Archie by not flying us into the home quarter’ ? No. Did my grandpa say ‘annie insisted on coming home so she killed Archie’ no. They accepted that there were so many things that could have should have would have been different… What if they had more blankets in the car? What if it hadn’t broken down? What if their brother had brought the sleigh and horses (which was the other option) … What if they had stayed in town for a week or two with family… None of it is anyone’s fault, it’s a tragic episode of sadness. The peices fell where they may. You did not kill your brother. I actually challenge you to own that. Because that’s actually the truth. Put your mommas garbage message away, because she has burned you to the core. And own the actual truth. You did not kill your brother.

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        • Wow. Your description of your grandmas’ child is like a light bulb going off…and you’re right. It was an unfortunate series of events. I like that you said my brother got into some aspirin and died. No, my children did not say “own it” about the death…other things. I thank you for your message. I will try to say and look at it that way from now on but the guilt is still with me. Child or no child, I took a life…or was responsible for taking a life. I like to think that he forgives me and understands that I didn’t mean to. I used to think he was watching over me. I dream about what life would have been like if he had lived. I wonder if we would have been close. Ah….. the wonders of “if.”

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          • Thanks for at least trying. Put loser on the shelf for a bit and see what your therapist thinks about this hard wired assumption in your life. See if he provides some exercises to undo this thought path. Because the guilt is there. But you didn’t take it. And weren’t responsible. Aspirin was the cause. Accident is the cause. None of you is in there.

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            • You know, there were so many secrets kept in my family…and in my life with Loser. I have always been a “full disclosure” kind of person. Maybe because that very fact was kept from me for so many years, I felt the need to “fess up.” I can’t stand secrets and innuendo and lies.

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