Hurting those who we love

Oscar Wilde the colourful playwright and poet once wrote “each man kills the thing he loves” – in a sense there is alot of truth to this. Since those who we love and receive love from is so much a part of how we see ourselves in relation to the present and future, this person is also the source of our happiness and ironically this also means they can also be the destroyer of our happiness as well: more than anyone else, the beloved can ruin our happiness. Similarly, the security involved in love goes together with the fear of losing that security. Feeling happy is often bound up with the fear of losing that happiness. Caring for the beloved sometimes goes together with hurting the beloved.

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‘Just as we cannot talk about fruit cakes without automatically talking about raisins. It is quite impossible to talk convincing about love without including vulnerability as well: the ability to hurt and to be hurt.

Although some kinds of hurt in love are deliberate, most I think are not….they are brought forth by circumstances* where one side may feel his or her expectations aren’t met and often this breeds anger, resentment and constricts the free flow of feelings.

What you have here is the basis for why we hurt those who we love.’

* I did not realise the last time we were together would be our last. I only sensed it on the second day and when that realisation grew me that the reason why we were together then could only have been motivated by her need for closure and to move on with her life without me. At first I wanted to stop her, but I could not. You see I was aware of my own limitations and the futility of the situation. Nothing I could ever do would be able to fulfill her expectations…I would always fall short and end up having to make up more excuses – all I know is that I didn’t want to be all the different men running around in my head any longer who all seemed to be looking for something. I didn’t want that especially with her, I wanted something else….something noble, worthy and deserving that she never once had from me – a sort of man that if she looked back ten or maybe twenty years from now, she would probably say…he was the one who got away – it was really as simple as that. So I watched her slip right out of my life, it wasn’t resignation that accounted for my indifference, it was actually the truest expression of my love for her. I had managed to convince myself by then if I could not provide her with the conditions that could make her happy, then I would not be the person to stop or confuse her either. She needed strength and courage to move on and I or maybe I should say him, that other man who I had willed out of my head at that time would be the one to give it to her. That was my way of loving her truly in the only way I know how thru this new man I had created somewhere in my head. I didn’t care how much it would hurt thereafter or that I would probably never find another kindred spirit to talk about the weather again. I was simply very grateful that she made a last effort to see me and look into my eyes one last time before we parted and she deserved the best of all men I could manage to get out of my head. Grateful because she didn’t have to do all that, she could have chosen the cowards way out like so many lesser women, but she didn’t and that meant the world and much more than I could ever explain. You see till this day. I am convinced she is the best thing that ever happened to me it’s not easy to find someone who can pair with me mentally and spiritually and when a man has that conviction, he has every reason to do what’s right for the woman he loves including giving her the strength to leave him. As she’s always been the one who gave much more than she could ever hope to received. I couldn’t have wished for a better person to come into my life and I will always love her in my own way.’