That's the title of a (really bad) book I loved as a youth, but couldn't figure out why love didn't fix everything. If you love someone enough, you should be able to fix the problems, right?
Today, Moe and I both went to our daughter's end of year performance. He brought his sister, which helped alleviate some of the awkwardness, and after it was over, he hugged the kids goodbye, I hugged his sister, and he waved at me with a sad smile.
It's incredibly difficult still being so in love with someone who has made choices that have made you so miserable. I know we'd both feel temporarily better if I hugged him or said I change my mind, but that wouldn't fix anything aside from this temporary heartache and loneliness.
And now I understand how sometimes love really just isn't enough.
It doesn't matter how much you love someone if they don't love themselves enough to manage an illness that is tearing apart your family. It doesn't matter how much they love you if they don't see that their behavior is destroying you. It doesn't matter how much you love each other if all you can do is fight instead of communicate. It doesn't matter how much love still exists between the two of you if all that's been there for months is rage and anger and you have both said and done things to tarnish that love.
I need to be respected, cherished, honored, trusted. I need to be liked, for Pete's sake. I'm hilarious and I need my partner to see that and enjoy me for me, not tell me I'm doing everything wrong.
I need to be seen. Not torn apart. Not destroyed. Not hurt repeatedly. Not distrusted, disrespected, dishonored.
No matter how much I love him ... I can't make him see that. I can't make him fix that. I can't make him love himself and me and the children enough to make the changes he has to make.
Love like this just isn't enough.
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