“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.”