Things haven't ever been this bad.

Sure, for years I was severely depressed, and talked about how dead I was inside.  But there were still small moments here and there where I felt some sense of joy.  Hidden pockets of sunshine that glimmered through the darkness.  I was still able to rouse myself to go on adventures, go exploring, go hiking, and find some reprieve from feeling nothing, nature often times being the only thing that made me feel alive, made me feel at peace, made me feel anything at all.

Even last year, when it was (at the time) the worst things had ever been for me, mentally.  Being more suicidal than I had ever been in my life.  Not wanting to be alive by the time the end of the year hit.  But I think, even in the midst of all that, I still had some semblance of hope.

There is no hope anymore.

It all went away as soon as I saw the email in my inbox.  The email that contained the paperwork that was waiting for my signature.  Paperwork I didn't want to sign, but was forced to, because otherwise it would have been too costly, in too many ways.  Paperwork that has one of the ugliest words to ever exist.  Paperwork that, when I read it, made me feel sick to my stomach, and I haven't stopped feeling that way since.

It's different this time.
Last year it was bad, but there wasn't the definitive knowledge.  There wasn't the life-shattering decision that was made that I had no part in making (story of my life).  Last year there was still some communication.  There was still "I love you" and "sweetie" (although way less often than before) and even "I want you" (which turned out to be yet another lie).
There was also confirmation that he was my person.  And although it didn't feel like it for several months at that point, he was still my best friend.  Still the person who knew me better than anyone in my life ever had.  Although maybe that's not saying much, because my own immediate family barely knows me, so by default I suppose, anyone who isn't my [blood] family that I let in, probably knows me better than my own family.

But now we're here.
Except now there's no "we."  It's just me.
Before it was us, and ours, and two lives joined into one (well, my life joined to his).
And now that bond that was made and formed in so many ways, over so many shared experiences, has been severed, and that is a wound that will never heal.  Ever.

Nature always used to make me feel better.  Being out in it.  Seeing it.
And this is how I know things are too far gone.
Because the last time I was out in nature, hiking alone, as I used to do so often before in past years...I felt nothing.  Not one goddamn thing.  I didn't feel at peace.  I didn't feel any joy.  I didn't feel content.  I felt absolutely nothing.

And that's how I know there is now no longer any point.
Because if the one thing that used to be able to make me feel better, without fail, evoked absolutely no emotions within me... Well.  That's just confirmation of how far gone I am.

I know I keep repeating myself, like a madman, insanity seeping through the cracked facade of my once-solid exterior, but I just cannot make sense of it.
I cannot understand how over and over and over he told me he was in this for the long haul, that he wasn't going anywhere, wasn't going to leave me, and then that's exactly what he did.
I cannot understand how someone can be so weak, to not be able to stick it out through the hard times, to follow through and stay, even if things seem hopeless.
I cannot understand how someone can tell me I'm the love of his life, his best friend, his soul mate, that he wants me, and then decides he doesn't want to be married to me anymore.

Never in a million years will I be able to make sense of it.
Never will I ever be able to comprehend how little I was worth to him.  Not worth following through on many things, but the biggest thing of all: the vows he made the day we married, where he promised to be by my side for better or for worse.

If you ever want to know the character of a person, all you need to do is observe them.
To know if they're a person of their word, a person who will follow through on what they say, you will see them do so.
If you want to know if things matter to them, watch where they invest their time and attention and money.  You will see them pour into the things they actually value.
If you want to know if they think of others first (i.e. can express empathy) or if they are self-centered, pay attention to how they respond.  If they first respond saying things like "same" or react in a way that points towards themselves, you will learn they are the first person they will be thinking about in almost any situation.

My whole life I have not felt wanted by my family, or even by other people in my life.  There are various reasons as to why this is, but the biggest indicator were the actions of those around me.  It would only make sense that the one and only person who was supposed to stick by my side, the person I saw and chose to love and know and spend the rest of my life with, would also not want me.
It follows the same pattern of everyone else.

Of course, I get it to a certain extent.
I was a failure as a wife.
I was a horrible example to him of what it looks like to love someone.  So often I got caught up in my own hurt, in my own feelings of not being wanted, of not being heard, of my feelings not mattering to him at all, that I withdrew.  I withdrew instead of working on making sure that I didn't make him feel that way.  And I failed in absolutely every way that mattered.
And the worst part is, is that being so caught up in my own hurt and the constant rejection, I didn't even see it until it was too late.  I didn't see that I didn't make him feel safe, that he couldn't tell me things he should have been able to tell me (if he truly saw me as his best friend/wife).  The biggest indicator was when he got back from deployment, and that very day I picked him up, he got absolutely drunk, and he had to be in that state to tell me he didn't feel safe to tell me things.

And I hate myself for that.
I hate myself for failing him.  I hate myself for allowing myself to feel things, which then made me feel everything, which made me feel rejected and hurt and not wanted.  I hate that I reacted so poorly to things in the past, that I made it unsafe for him around me.  I hate that I didn't push for us to get real help back when we were dating, because had I done so, I know things would have gone differently, and we would have worked out shit early on, rather than letting it pile up from basically day one, because he didn't see it as a priority, nor did he actually want to put in the work on getting better (despite him saying otherwise).

I am a failure in all aspects of the word.
And it makes sense why he doesn't want me, doesn't want to be married to me.
It makes sense that I stopped being his best friend, that he didn't like being around me, that he stopped wanting to have sex with me, that he prefers to be alone rather than being with me.

I hate people, too.
That's one of the things we bonded over early on (if you don't hate people you don't get it).
And I prefer to be alone, too.  I'm a major introvert.  Why wouldn't I prefer that?  But the thing is, is that I preferred being with him over being alone.  Because he was my person.
But I was never his.

There's a show that I've seen before called "Fleabag" which had some really great moments in it that talked about love.  One of the quotes goes something along the lines of "I don't know what to do with it...with all of the love I have for [him].  I don't know where to put it now."
And I don't.
There is never going to be anyone else.
He doesn't understand that. 
It was only ever him.  I saw him, and I chose him, and I rose in love for him.

But even more than not knowing where to put all the love I have for him, I don't know what to do with all this hurt.
To experience the betrayal of someone who told you they weren't going anywhere, who vowed to you before best friends and God that only death would part you, but instead, it wasn't death but their own inability to want to keep their promises...it feels like someone took out your brain from your skull, unwrapped it, and did a poor job of putting it back together again before stuffing it back into your cranium.
I feel like I am going mad, because I am trying to make sense of something that will never make sense.
I am drowning and suffocating in the madness that all this hurt and pain is producing.  Weekends are for drinking excessively, because I need to feel numb.  I've also taken up the habit of slapping my own face as hard as I can (easier to do when intoxicated) to stop myself from being a little bitch and feeling this much.  Anything to be numb and lessen the pain, because it is too much. 
It is too much.

No one can ever explain to me why he couldn't keep his word.  Why I never mattered to him.  Why the vows he made and the life we shared for such a short time wasn't worth anything to him.

There is no hope anymore.
There is no future.  No shared life.  No growing old and grey together, nor arguments about which one of us is going to die first because we don't want to see the other go.

So I have no competition now, but I'm going to go first.
I just need to get over this fucking fear of death.  It's going to happen eventually, so might as well make it sooner rather than later, right?
That's what I keep telling myself.
And it's true.
I just need to stop being such a fucking coward about it, and figure out the best way, and get everything sorted.

And then, at the very least, I will have kept my vows to him.
And when he finally finds the person who he wants to be with more than he wants to be alone (it will happen eventually, from one of the girls he finds to fuck), he can be free to be with her, because I will no longer be alive, so his vows will have been fulfilled.

I will conquer this fear.
And then I will finally be free of all this hurt.