How did I learn to communicate? I am questioning my abilities to see people and connect. I question whether I ever had the desire before. I may have been a bit too immature to handle the stress of being a husband. These are the stresses that I call the source of what it took to break me. I broke. I became fixated and overwhelmed and I lacked any tools to handle this level of emotional commitment. It was beyond my then-present capabilities. I have come to learn a bit since then, and I see a bit more clearly these days. Hitting the wall would be another description. I was pressed to my max on every level, and I needed to reset, learn a lot, reevaluate what's important in life, and heal the wounds that have never been addressed.

I lost respect for both of my parents, separately and for different reasons. Not all respect, and there is still respect. I still see how they tried how they knew best, and I can see that they have not awakened from that state. My mother has especially gone far down the road. It reminds me of popular media in a way. There is a short-sighted, on-to-the-next, making-progress attitude that I sense. I unplugged from that mess. I got caught up in it. I was ashamed and hid my short video watching. I fooled myself into thinking efficiency, but this was actually a trap. When the addiction got me, I lost my attention span, and I couldn't spend time in the place where I was. I'm not saying the ability was lost entirely, but it was vastly diminished, and my relationships suffered. I have evidence of such, and those who care stuck it out and didn't mind me for being crazy in those moments, but those I offended beyond breaking, they are gone. Not in a bad way, but in just the way that they slowly fade away. I left too much unsaid. I am too late.

You threatened to leave me in a very dramatic fashion, and then you repeated this threat. I was so fucking scared. The little boy couldn't take it, and you made me feel so inadequate. I took your words as telling me I wasn't doing enough. I don't know what I did good. But you liked how we would talk and laugh, and we dreamed. I was just a fun escape, and then i stopped being fun. I got mean. I got angry at all the world wanting something from me, and she couldn't be the peaceful place I had fantasized about. Every day I wondered if today would be the day. I thought about it every day, and she would surprise me when she wasn't upset. I reminded myself how lucky I was to have someone that loved me, and she's not actually gonna leave me, I just need to do better so she doesn't leave. I couldn't be there for her. Her finances were provided by me, and she blamed me for controlling her finances, when I felt like I gave her everything, she told me how much money she needed, and I gave it to her. She and I have a very different view toward money, I was worried about being poor and wore shoes with holes, and she would throw clothes away if they got a small stain. When I would try to leave, she would stop me and try to keep me, then she would create a fight, and I would spend two hours with her talking it through. Thinking I was being there for her, and sometimes I was. I always tried to take time. I felt like I was treating her with respect, and she would shy away and not speak up for herself. I would ask her what she wants, and she would defer to someone else's opinion. I didn't have a preferred answer when I asked questions, there was no right answer. The answer she gives is the right answer because it is what she wants and how she feels, that's what makes it the right answer. When she stood up for the thing she wanted, I supported her 100%. I am with you, always. All I ask is that you talk to me, and that we can discuss it. I promise to not be dismissive. If I am, I hope I can catch it, but please call me out. It's not okay behavior.

I looked past all these negatives. I put my head down, ignored it, pushed it to the side. I love her, and she is worth it all. I know we are both growing, and I also know that she didn't see any growth in me. She saw a worsening pattern, and I don't disagree. I see how the whole thing spiraled. When I snapped and took off the ring, I felt so worthless and that I was saying that I can't do anything right and I'm done feeling this way, you are bringing these feelings to the light, and I didn't want to look at them. You dragged me kicking and screaming through the mess of emotions, and I am thanking you now that I am on the other side.

I am writing love letters, daily. I really enjoy writing a daily letter to the woman I love. I get a chance to tell her about my day and some of my thoughts. It can be a place to talk about dreams. It can be a place for stories, past or future, fact or fiction. It an be a place for confessions of love and attempted descriptions at indescribable beauty. After a month of letters, I'll just keep going. I find the practice very enjoyable. I get to share my joy with the one I love in these letters. They mean so much to me because she means so much to me. These are my handwritten words to my truest friend, my person. Today, I still have the hope that she will read these letters one day. I look forward to the day when the woman I love reads the letters I write for her. I very much look forward to when I can deliver letters to my person. I'll point out the implications intended here. I will keep writing letters to the woman I love. Whoever that person is, she will look forward to getting my letters because they will be a special part of her day. I was listening. I did learn. I'm not that unpredictable, immature boy. I am constant. I am safe. I am compassionate. I can put myself in the shoes of another. It's something I've always been able to do. I was pushing that to the side. I don't know how I got so twisted to think that emotion stuff was getting in my way. If I just ignore it, it will eventually go away, right? That's wrong. There is no "go away" for this stuff. It must be welcomed with warmth and kindness. I treat myself this way, and I allow myself to feel, and I don't hate that part of myself actively trying to beat it out of existence. I see how I did the same thing to others, and I am deeply regretful that I dragged them through it because I wasn't healed. I was that hurt person and the scared little boy, just trying to protect myself because I didn't know how to be with these feelings.