From August 10, 2010

He made me feel that I was no longer interesting, that there was no longer anything I could do or say that would delight him, teach him something new, or in any way further inform his view of the world. A lonely and useless feeling filled me each day, as though the flame I was to have burned within the world had already burned out, and that the only thing left to do was amass money and possessions until my empty life came to an honest end.

He was not the lone villain, however. He inspired the same feelings in me -- whenever he opened his mouth to speak I expected to be bored, enraged, or merely irritated, but never pleased or happy to have heard him. I did enjoy our arguments from time to time, I suppose, though, for lack of anything better to do.

One day some previously sleeping powers of observation woke in me, and I realized two things. First, my distaste for him had spread to much of the rest of the world as well. I no longer expected anyone else to bring me pleasure with their words or deeds. I cringed away from casual conversation as though expecting a blow from my companion: fanaticism on this or that, cruelty, indifference, or meaninglessness on some other. Too painful to endure the small talk pleasantries in either case.

My second realization: I no longer believed I could hold anyone's attention. Knowing how my own mind ignored others or judged them and found them lacking, I expected others to do the same. Before the first words were even exchanged with people I might want to talk to, I felt like a failure who could never measure up to their expectations.

Today

I wrote in past tense as though I was no longer feeling that way, but this was still more than a year before things ended. I told myself that the practical advantages of living with him, having someone around to talk to who knew me and (to some extent) accepted my flaws, was better than the alternative. But I was alone in a way that mattered, and felt the weight of that emotional isolation every day. I tried to eat it away, to sleep it away, and to argue it away as a distraction, but it stayed.

If I have future regrets, if I feel like the superficial comfort and practical concerns should perhaps have won out, I can remember this feeling. In the end, I made the right choice. It's so often worse to feel alone in the presence of others than it is to truly be alone.