the never-ending story comes to an end

(two days after my abdominal myomectomy – removal of 7cm fibroid tumor from uterus via C-section.)

I feel as if J has been cut away with the scalpel that was used to cut out the necrotizing fibroid which had been growing to a grotesque size inside of my uterus.

Somehow I feel as if God has had his hand in this…which would, of course, contradict all my previous blabber about how this union must be God’s wish. Or maybe not. What do I know? ….but I am wondering – if this was my place in the universe – for this particular amount of time – at J’s side…walking him through thick and thin….then what was the purpose of it all if he is now where he was before?

He’s clearly, besides a seemingly incorrigible addict, mentally ill…. Or maybe he is “just” a sociopath and I fell for it. Either way – what kind of person abandons their partner days before such major surgery? A partner they claim to love. A partner that has supported them for years.

He didn't even check in to see how it went or pay me one stinking visit in the hospital… “Total abandonment” I keep repeating to myself in disbelief as I move through the days.

I have moments at which everything seems clear. God needed to slap me upside down the head to get me to let go of this one. Every other strategy to make me give up this “project” seemed fruitless. It was almost as if I was on some sort of mission (being there for J as he got back on his feet): Tenacious, forgiving, determined, and patient.

But, this …. this is unforgivable. Even in my book of endless forgiveness.

I was completely alone when I went into the hospital. I was nervous … afraid (after just having signed a health proxy that talks about “in case of death…”). All I wanted was my bf to hold my hand as I was listening to the surgical team explain the procedure. Someone to hold my hand when I woke up in the recovery room. Someone to be there and/or visit me in this depressing hospital without any sense of bedside care. I rarely ever have moments like this in my life. Where I want someone to just hold my hand or be there. Rarely. …. And he wasn’t there. Not a word from him – still. {It was D [my ex-husband], btw., who showed up and called to check on me, and ultimately drove me home. I know D loves me but he is not my mate and this shouldn’t have been his place. But…looks like he’s the closest thing to family I have in this city}.

I am not angry at J, or resentful. It's not like I didn't know what kind of person I was with. I knew he was a broken individual but, I guess, one doesn't really want to accept reality until it hits them in the face - unmistakeably.
And so, .... I have drawn the line. Sober. Realistic. – One MUST NOT be with a partner that abandons one in such dire need. Especially after said partner has been there for the former in exactly such times – for years! …. 3 ½ YEARS I have been there for him – the worst years of his life, I dare say. When everyone , including his mother, turned their backs on him.

But, J is sick. Otherwise….how could this be possible? He is probably high out of his mind somewhere. The last relapse – the one that got him kicked out last week (for it again - for the 2nd time now - exposed my children to his drug habit) – was not only with alcohol but also with heroin. (!)

I do hope, however, that he will rebuild himself against all odds. Maybe he can use that genius-brain of his for the greater good of mankind, if he can’t really apply it in interpersonal care and sympathy.

Unfortunately, I don’t think this will be possible unless he finally understands that he needs medication. No man in their right mind would have collapsed in the advent of such a regular life-hardship ('surgery/temporary medical needs of one’s partner'). He completely freaked out about the expectations that lay ahead of him. Maybe it was his new job, too. I don’t know. Either way, the man/boy needs professional help.

Another reason I believe God has intervened is because I feel has if I have been cured of the love I had for J. Or maybe that is just the result in the face of what he has done to me (abandoned me when I really needed him). I don’t know. But, I have never felt like this before (and we've had - ooh, big surprise - plenty of break-ups): Detached. … Sad, yes. Depressed about the situation itself (being left alone while in the hospital and now at home), yes. But, no yearning. No heart-break.

He is ill. And I am sad I couldn’t save him. … Or he couldn’t save himself with my help.