In many ways, I checked out of life in 2010.
Although some, including me, think I was pushed out.
Not that it matters.
It doesn't.
And it probably never did.
But now, 12+ years later,
it matters even less.
If that's possible.
The harder truth is, I don't matter.
What I like.
What I want.
What I think.
What I have to say.
None of it matters.
Not to me, not anymore.
Another truth is that I chose where I am.
People have said I should get over it, move on.
Forgive and forget.
Maybe.
Maybe one day.
But probably not.
I bought and paid for this hurt.
So I'm not giving it up.
It's mine. I own it.
What did matter is the life I had.
It was ended for me.
Intentionally.
And who cares about that?
Nobody. Everyone has their own life.
Their own problems, betrayals.
I not the first or last to be stabbed in the back.
And so now I face another truth.
This end I own didn't really start in 2010.
It started when I was born.
I was dealt a bad hand from the start.
Some are. Many are. So what.
It doesn't matter.
I did get several breaks along the way.
I was adopted.
I grew up in a good home.
With good parents, good brothers.
Met my wife.
We planned our life.
Took our vows.
Blessed with 4 beautiful daughters.
Beautiful home.
The future looked bright.
All blessings that many never enjoy.
But then, after 30 years, it all changed.
That wife decided that not even wedding vows mattered.
"for better or worse"
"until death do us part"
Doesn't matter.
She felt it was easier to just move on.
And that's what she did.
Thirty years didn't matter.
A covenant with God? Doesn't matter.
What God has joined? Doesn't matter.
None of that matters.
The Bible says "Love never fails"
If that's true, then there was never love.
She moved on but I didn't. Still haven't.
I'm stuck there. That's where I died.
Wife stopped caring. God stopped caring.
I stopped caring.
I stopped mattering.
Stopped living.
This wasn't the first time a woman
abandoned me,
betrayed me,
deceived me.
But it would be the last.
So I checked out.
Took myself out of the game. Out of living.
And it doesn't matter.
I started out broken, and I never healed.
And now, it doesn't matter.
Love is patient?
Love is kind?
Love never fails?
Maybe. Maybe for some.
But I wouldn't know…