About Us

I'm scared.

It's really scary to not feel that you love me.
I feel like this is the end of the world - MY world anyway -- and I don't like it. I don't like not feeling alone.

What happened?
I am not really sure. I thought that, even though I might have been proved wrong, I wasn't unreasonable in making some of my assumptions. All these event -- word slips, etc. -- were there right in front of me, and I needed to make sense of them. I feel like I was slow to see them because I started asking if other people have these experience, and they seem to be appalled that I even brought them up, and the fact that I didn't question anything earlier in our relationship. They asked me more questions ... and I had NO idea why. But then certain commonalities surfaced, and I looked at these events together; and together, they didn't make a happy picture.

I looked at the facts -- that you show me you love me everyday, and that there are these events -- and they contradict. And in some cases for some people, that can mean very bad things. What do you do when you find contradictions that can break your heart? Well, I got really scared. I was afraid that you don't really love me, and having that happen would be ... well, corny as it is ... the world coming to an end.

I thought to myself, this isn't happening, what I see isn't real, but it seems so real, because they all have happened. I thought: Oh, no. I had a home, I even had a cat. I could consider working overseas, but I wanted to stay here, so I would have given it all up just to be with him. I even would risk my health for him. I would give it all up, because this is what I wanted.

I hoped to God that I was wrong. I had to stay and confront this. So this is why I am here. I thought no matter what, we could work it out ... just like before, because we love each other.

Turns out I got what I hoped for -- I was wrong. I was dead-wrong. And I had hurt you. My fears gave you pain. And I knew it. I had disappointed you. My hollow assumptions filled with fear exploded inside you and hurt you.

I don't know if you know, but I felt so so rotten. So bad. I was so embarrassed for ever ever doubting you. Even though it wasn't an insensible thing to do, it was definitely an insensitive thing to do.

I even ruined Valentine's Day for us. I was getting so excited about it. I knew I would be getting the Valentine's Day I wished for with you.

For the whole next day -- Thursday -- I kept worrying about what I had done, so I decided to stay home with you that night. That's the least I could do. I had hoped that we could talk, not the way we did Wednesday night, but calmly. I made myself calm, the least I could do for you. I wanted to make sure that you understood I didn't do it on purpose, and I had reasons for doing what I did. I wanted you to know that I am so sorry for ever doubting you. That's not something I wanted to do. I know I had breached our trust. It doesn't just hurt you; it hurts me, too. I wanted you to know that I was so sorry, and I was willing to do anything -- ANYTHING -- to make it up.

But I wasn't sure why you didn't see that I had my reasons to doubt, which doesn't excuse what I did, but I wanted you to at least acknowledge that I didn't want to have distrust for you, but I just kept seeing repeated patterns. I probably would have been less reasonable if I based my assumptions on single incidents, but I didn't.

What's more is that, even though I knew why you yelled at me (because you were angry and hurt and felt betrayed), I was shocked that you would turn your back on me and left me there crying. All I wanted to do was to talk. I wanted to understand you, and I wanted you to understand me.

But I promise, you achieved what you set out to do: It hurt like you stabbed me in the heart, twisted it, and watched me bleed.

What do you do when that happens? What, stay and "talk it out"? I felt like I needed to leave for a while. So I called for Annie's help.

I came home because I wanted to talk. Not that it felt any better then, but I couldn't just leave. I love you. I thought we could at least talk a little bit, now that (at least) I've calmed down. But that didn't happen. It would have been bad if you had yelled at me again, but it was worse because you didn't say a thing. I felt like I was being pushed away. I was so angry. Why?? Why would you not even give me a little hope to sleep on ... to pass the night? Am I not even worth that much to you?

I felt so hopeless when you wanted to leave, like the lights have gone out. I felt like I cared so much to even come back to try to talk, but you didn't. You're right ... maybe this is how it felt like when I walked away. I'm sorry.

And now ... I don't really know what to think. I have no plans. I don't really know what to do. I have work that I should do, but I am not like you -- I can't isolate my emotions and go on with my life because when my home life isn't well, the rest goes down with it. I can't imagine how it is for you. I'm glad you are staying strong.

If we don't work out because of this, no, I won't understand. As much as I want to run away because this hurts so much, I am staying because I want us to work. If you feel different, I want at least a good enough reason for me to leave.

So I hope that we will find out tonight:
1) whether this relationship is worth working on?
2) whether we want to work on it?
3) How?
4) if we are going to end the relationship, why?
5) where to go from there?

Help me, please, if not for you, as if this might be the last thing you do for me.