She showed me what real love was.
I couldn’t give her the same love back.
My mind, filled with so much lust and selfishness, made Dorothy’s imperfections stand out. Although my heart was filled with her, I still chased other women. In the industry, spotting a glimpse of imperfection results in throwing away an old toy and instantly getting a new one. That’s how women are treated, like toys.
But Dorothy was different.
I loved her. I still do.
I was willing to accept her imperfections. I never told her how much I love her because I had no confidence. I’m still trying to overcome this habit and I knew I would hurt her.
It was all just too much for me. Life. This habit. Dorothy. I couldn’t do it. I relapsed day after day. I couldn’t give the same amount of love she was giving me.
I chose what I now think is the stupidest way of trying to get rid of her: Make her hate me. I lied to her, confused her, insulted her, took back the nice things I said to her etc. I did this because I thought she deserved someone who doesn’t have this lustful habit. Someone who can control himself better than I can control myself. Her life would have been much worse with me.
Eventually the time came when she left. That was probably the most depressing week of 2016. I admit I did cry. Twice.
The pain of Dorothy leaving me spurred me on. Since that day I haven’t relapsed. I feel like I am not just doing this for me anymore. She deserves to know that I did overcome the habit that has corrupted me for most my life and affected a moment of hers.
I am doing this for her.
Dorothy, I still love you.