It's the Little Things

If you ask someone what they miss about a loved one or a partner that has moved on, they often say it's the little things - the way they would be delighted at the most random things, the smile, holding hands, a hug, or a humorous exchange. 

They miss the warmth of human companionship that only comes from a nurturing and loving relationship. 

I do too. I know that I left on my volition, but our relationship was devoid of this warmth long before I decided to leave. When he said he wasn't planning on seeking therapy anytime soon, rejecting my help, or anyone for that matter - I felt like that was it. Recovery from mental health issues can't happen if one is unwilling to heal themselves. Even the numb ones I've come across have reached out and asked their family, friends, or partners to help pull them out of the darkness. So yes, I don't understand why that supposedly smart STBX won't. Am I not worth the risk of opening up? Does he think I'm strong enough so I should just suck it up and stay? Should I tolerate being treated worse than the dog in my own home? Should I stand by and get sick from all the allergens floating about when he clearly knows they are making me sick? 

I dread asking this question but I need to say it out loud - does he not love me anymore? 

I understand that work stress aggravated his childhood trauma and the numbness is just a defense mechanism. It was my hubris, my belief that I at least taught him enough skills and provided him with enough stability to be able to cope and heal. As it turned out, I'm not enough against intergenerational trauma, especially for a sensitive and gifted boy who thinks he's smarter than everyone else. 

Oh well, as one of my aunts said, it is what it is. Nu dina kayat ken ania ngay maaramidentayo?

Still, my father taught me not to give up, so I'm certainly not giving up on people. But darn it, how can I move on then?

Homeless

 I was browsing shows on one of the streaming platforms when I came across this popular Pinoy romance story about overseas Filipino workers (OFW) and finding home. 

Thus, despite the mediocre acting by the leads (well, lots of improvement, it's just that the dialogue felt stilted and unnatural at times), I found myself sniffling because of a few clips. Some scenarios just hit home, ya know? 

In this particular movie/sequel, a patient of the female lead wrote her a card before the patient passed. It was wishing the protagonist to choose love, and goes on a lengthy discourse why love is 'Joy' and love is like coming home. 

Cue waterworks. (c'mon, I'm a work in progress. Cut me some slack)

I guess one of the things that made me cry was realizing why leaving felt so traumatic. I lost my touchstone, my home. The one person who used to calm me down and ground me disappeared, replaced by a numb automaton. Anyone who has lost something so precious, so dear, will grieve for what was, and what could have been. And that's the boat where I am at, and I need to direct the boat to when it should take me.

But gosh-darn-it. I still want my happy ending. I thought I had it by someone cruelly gave it then took it back.