Life is struggle and pain. At least for many of us. I've had bright moments. But overall, it has been a fight and slog, and endurance of one thing after the other. I am internally and externally scarred and more keeps coming.
My wife has a disease that will progressively worsen. There is no cure, but eventually, she can hopefully have a transplant to get past it, though even that will not be a perfectly healthy ride. I'm afraid for her and for me. But I can handle this one. It's just the next demon I have to slay and I'll bare my teeth and charge it head on as long as I have any strength left.
But she won't.
She can't, it seems. She has no fight in her. She crumples, hides, runs, avoids. Falls further and further into depression that she never truly has ever even acknowledged. And I can do nothing about it. I can't fight. Who am I fighting? I can't push. I can't drag. I just have to watch as she slowly shuts me and everything else out.
We'll have bright moments where her emotions break through, but she just cries and cries and moans in self-pity. Lately she's been getting angry. This is good for her, but bad for me because she has no idea how to direct or filter it and I bear the wounds of that too.
I could leave. Cut it off and walk away. But how low would that be? To run in her hour of greatest need. So I won't. I'll stay. And I'll resign myself to the misery I've always known. I'll buckle back in to the persona I thought I could escape and kill another giant. Because apparently that is my lot in life.
