Absolutely certain: I don’t need a man I have to drag along behind me!
My name is Catherine White, and I live in Kingston, where the beauty of the Thames greets me every day. I’ve been with James for nearly three years, and for the past year, we’ve been sharing a home. I know his family, and he’s familiar with mine. Since spring, we’ve both started working, which sparked our imagination and inspired us to make bold plans: we talked about marriage, children, and a future that felt so tangible. But it all shattered on a dark June day when James’s life fell apart. His mother died suddenly and cruelly. She was walking back from work when she collapsed on the street from a heart attack and passed away on the way to the hospital. The blow was devastating, the pain unbearable for all of them.
I never left his side. James is the man I love, the one I chose to spend my life with. I stayed close, sharing his sleepless nights, wiping away the tears from his cheeks, silently bearing the hardship as he drowned his sorrows in whisky, shot after shot. I held his hand as he descended into the depths of despair, into a dark chasm with no light. Even when he pushed me away, yelled that he didn’t want me to see his weakness, I remained. I couldn’t leave him alone in such torment. He meant everything to me, and I was ready to shoulder his pain for him.
But months have passed, and James remains broken, lost. He shut himself inside, closed himself off from the world. He doesn’t meet friends, and some days he doesn’t speak a word to me. No matter what I suggest—going out, distracting ourselves, moving on—he dismisses it, staring blankly and remaining silent. He spends whole days at home, staring at a point in space, doing nothing. He’s even taken unpaid leave, risking his job completely. I don’t know how to pull him from this swamp of misery. I understand the depth of losing a mother, but James seems to have died alongside her. When I try to say that life goes on and he needs to fight for the ones still here, he throws back at me, “You’re heartless, cynical!” Maybe he’s right, but I can’t ignore the rest.
What if this isn’t the end of our hardships? Life isn’t kind—more troubles and challenges lie ahead. If he breaks down like a brittle twig every time, how will we cope? If I’m always the one shouldering everything, I simply can’t bear it. And I don’t want to either! I need a partner—strong and reliable, someone with whom I can share burdens, not someone I have to drag like a heavy load. I’m exhausted from being his pillar, his life preserver, while he sinks in his ocean of tears without attempting to swim.
I’m scared to admit this even to my closest friends—what if they judge me, label me as cold-hearted? I can imagine the reproachful looks from friends: “His mother died, and you’re only thinking of yourself!” But I’m not made of stone—I suffer too. I cry at night, seeing him, this stranger he’s become. Where’s the man who laughed with me, made plans, dreamt of our future? He’s gone, and I don’t know if he’ll ever return. I’m terrified—terrified of losing our love, terrified of staying with him in such a state, terrified of leaving and then regretting it all.
I don’t want to abandon him in his despair, but I can’t be his caretaker forever. Every day, I watch him fade away and feel myself fading too. Work, home, his silence—all weigh on me like a concrete slab. I dreamed of family, happiness, and ended up with this—endless sorrow and loneliness together. How do I save our love? How do I pull him from this quagmire? Or perhaps it’s time to save myself? I don’t know what to do. My heart is torn between pitying him and yearning to live my life. Please, advise me—how do I bring him back or find a way to leave if he isn’t the man I once loved? I’m standing on the edge of a precipice, and I need light to find my way out.
