It occurs to me that this is the first time in my life I have voluntarily given up something I love. I mean I, as and adult, have personally taken this decision to give it away.
I searched for analogies of where this happens to people
- A teenage mother giving up her baby in the 1960s
- A woman having her breasts removed because she is at risk of breast cancer though she does not already have it
- prosperous Jews, Palestinians, Turks, Greeks, Armenians, Hootus and Tutsis, who fled their homes and businesses
- Young people in love who are separated when their parents move cities
- A couple deciding to abort a much wanted but fatally flawed unborn baby
These are all more severe than my situation, but the thing they have in common is that the alternative is worse. Human nature being what it is though, in about half the cases it is because of aggression, intolerance, or disrespect that the alternative is worse.
In my case the alternative is to have a protracted battle with an abusive, disrespectful, manipulative ex partner.
2 comments:
Ya know, I believe everything I own is simply something borrowed, something lent. Nothing is really MINE, and so when I die, all that's really left are memories in the minds of a few friends.
Life is a constant choice of picking the lessor of two evils. Maybe that is why it is so much FUN. It's like a constant game of chance (Gambling)
So why does it feel like the first time? I must've done this loads of times before.
Chose to marry the wrong guy rather than be alone? Chose to study something at uni I wasn't particularly interested in rather than not go at all?
Didn't involve giving up something I loved.
Maybe give up your addiction rather than die?
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