anotherlongshot (anotherlongshot) wrote,


It's not right that this is happening. I have become acquainted with terms that I never thought I would need to know, the technical difference between something that is metastatic and something that is not. The effect, though, is the same.

I can't put this into words. I can't find the words that would begin to make sense of this. This is not something that was supposed to happen. I did not plan this. I did not intend for any of this. Disasters never happened to me; and now I'm caught in the middle of one.

I spent 30 minutes tonight reading the Wikipedia page on causality. Before this I kept going over in my head, over and over, the legal elements needed to establish tortious liability for negligence: duty of care; breach of said duty of care; a proximate causal connection between the said breach and damage suffered by the victim of the said breach; and the damage was not too remote a consequence of the breach of duty of care.

I feel like I caused this. I owed a duty of care. I breached it. There was damage as a result of my action. The law protects me by telling me that the damage was too remote a consequence of the breach; but the law isn't always connected to morality. The law seeks to do justice between competing interests; it tries to strike a balance.

Morality - my version of it - is black and white. It is unscientific, maybe, this burden which I am unable to shake; but the fact remains that but for what I did, this would not have happened. But for what I did, the initial effect of the triggering event that I brought about would not have occurred, and the consequential chain of devastating aftershocks would not have happened. Even this word that I chose - "aftershocks" - is a cop-out; it does not remotely describe the far-reaching consequences of what I chose to do, two months ago.

It's only when something amazing is gone that I realise that I should have cherished what I had. Oh, take me back to the start. I want to go back to the start. I am losing the love of my life and I can't stop feeling like it's my fault. I did this. This is happening because of what I did. If I hadn't done what I did none of this would be happening. If I had chosen differently that night when I didn't want to stay, none of this would be happening.

I have never, ever felt so much regret and guilt in my life. The faux-regret that I thought I felt about law school cannot even hope to compare to what I'm feeling. People have tried to convince me otherwise and in some way I know they are right; but I can't stop feeling this way. I can't shake it - I know how it works, cause and effect; and it is scant consolation that the damage was too remote.

There are reminders everywhere in my room, in this country, of better times when we were in love. I can't look at the things that I have received. I can't move the ones that are plainly in sight out of sight. I can't touch them. I can't think about this. I can't think of all my memories of us, memories that he's slowly losing, and not want to break down and cry. This hopeless devastation is so acute, I can barely feel the pain. I have never felt so much pain and yet fel absolutely nothing simultaneously. I can't breathe at work when I think about this; my chest hurts intermittently, but it's nothing compared to the consequences of what I did.

In the light of all this, I realise how little my life is; how insignificant my "achievements" are. Nothing amounts to much in the face of forces beyond human control and understanding. Why is this happening? If anything, I'm more convinced than ever of my non-existent religious/spiritual convictions. The limitations of human understanding is desperate for answers at times of crises, when nothing - aboslutely fucking nothing makes sense. Rationality cannot explain this. Science provides a facile explanation, the how and the what, but not the why. That's the most important question and no one can explain it because it doesn't make sense. Why is this happening? I'm so desperate for comfort that I almost believe there's such a thing as fate or destiny.

The truth is, it's a fucking crock of shit. Everything in life is sheer dumb luck, pure coincidence. It doesn't make any sense. But why should it? These things just happen. I want desperately to know why. But there's no explanation. There's no explanation for why this is happening to a beautiful, amazing person, not to an asshole, or a thief, or a liar, or a cheat, or a crook; there's no fucking explanation. It is what it is. It is exactly what it is.

And there's absolutely nothing that I, or anyone, can do it about it. This is the life that a baby is born into every time a man and a woman decide to fuck: solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.
Tags: personal

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