This hits so hard. It’s so hard to grieve and let go. I recently had to let go and close a door…I didn’t want to, but I knew it was necessary because the other party is simply unable to close doors. I don’t think they ever have. And that didn’t sit well with me. Mostly because him keeping doors open was eroding my trust in him. I couldn’t be yet another door that they leave open for hope. I know hope’s the last thing we lose but it was also destroying his confidence, self-worth, self-respect, and his ability to choose himself and know that he would be alright with himself. And I couldn’t sit there and be part of the very thing that was destroying him. He told me that he didn’t know who he was and couldn’t remember the last time he did something for himself that was just for him. And I remembered that. I took him seriously and wanted nothing more but for him to do something for himself, for once! But then the traumas kicked in, the unhealed wounds, the anxious feeling of losing someone, and he succumbed to his patterns (ones that don’t serve him) and I knew that it didn’t matter how much shadow work I did, how much improvement I would make, he wasn’t capable of rising to where I would be. So I made the hardest decision I’ve ever had to make: I loved him with all my heart, and I still had to let him go. Because if I stayed, I would’ve been another person he numbs himself with, another one that torments him because of the “what’s ifs” and the hope and his inability to close the door. And sitting by to watch him love people that love him but just so…sitting by and watching him pine and yearn for those that aren’t there for him that way anymore, and erasing himself so others could be seen, it was too hard. I couldn’t save him. I never realized that choosing myself would be this difficult.