It’s not my fault, really. It’s yours, but I don’t hold it against you. At least not all the time.
Were it not for you, there’s no telling who I’d be, where I’d be, what I’d be.
Without you, I could be running in place, a hamster on a wheel exhausting myself for no purpose. Without you, I could have taken on the world and won, becoming great in this, that, or the other thing. I could have looked each and every fear I’ve encountered in the eye, vanquished it and moved on to the next challenge.
Without you, I wouldn’t have spent the last 15-plus years searching for a purpose, wandering aimlessly from place to place, desperate to find something – anything – to fill the hole in my heart, a heart that was ripped from my body because of your selfishness. Without you, I’d never have known the single greatest pain I’ve ever encountered.
I can’t blame you for everything, because as the sun sets on each and every day, it’s my guilt and remorse than holds me hostage, it’s my inability to let go of the pain you caused that has me trapped, suffocating and reaching. You’re the cause, but I am the solution, and it is my fault that I’ve never allowed myself to break down the answer. I can’t blame you for the mistakes I’ve made out of loneliness and sadness, the relationships I’ve ruined because you made feel like nothing more than a dinghy, rocked and battered by the ocean’s relentless, crushing, waves. It’s not your fault I never put out an S.O.S, it’s not your fault that I held on to my pride thinking it could save me. That’s solely on me.
It’s been too long, it’s been too tiring. It’s been too debilitating and too destructive. It’s left me alone, no matter how many people have loved me. It’s left cold no matter how much warmth has touched my face. There’ve been days when nothing mattered because we didn’t matter to you, but it’s been too long. It’s time to let go, but there are some days when the anger and bitterness I still feel gets the best of me, and those days hit like a sledgehammer to a fragile-as-glass soul. I simply can’t escape the fog that you rolled into my heart on those days.
You’re not the reason I ruined my marriage. You’re not the reason I have been scared of life alone. You’re not the reason I am floundering, begging God to find my heart and give me proof of life. I’ve given you so much power over me, and I am willing to wager that in the last decade plus you’ve not once thought about us, despite how much I have let you dictate my emotions. Unfortunately, you’re not the reason for the power I’ve given you, I am. I am the one who has to learn to adjust, move on, to think about a life that is likely to never include the one thing I’ve always felt I was meant to be. You’re unaware of how much damage you’ve done, how you broke a man who never had a purpose by terminating his only chance at one. Ripped away so you could live your life freely, without burden and added challenges; so you could live easily.
Without you, I could easily still be lost and wandering, so I guess it’s time to stop making excuses. You’re just the reason for the hole in my heart.