What If I Had Stayed ?

I think I finally figured out why I’m upset.
I’m upset at myself. I hurt myself.

It honestly makes me sick to my stomach when I sit and think about all of it. I hold so much shame and guilt, because I did it. There’s no one else to blame but me. I was wrong. I fucked up. And all it did was lead to more fuck ups.

I wish I could go back to past me and shake her, wake her up, make her understand that she doesn’t want to go down this road… that it can be avoided… that we don’t have to learn the hard way every single time. But here we are… right back where we started.

My brain gets lost for hours thinking about where we’d be today if I never left. What if I had stayed? There wouldn’t be this grief, this ache, this loneliness. But that’s not what I chose.

I feel disgusted with myself for what I let tempt me. I missed what was right in front of me. I just don’t understand myself sometimes — why then could my soul not feel and see what I do now? Did I really need the trauma, the baggage, the shame, the mistakes, the tears, just to see you as clearly as I see you now? I guess I did… but I hate myself for it. Hate that I’m this way. I’ve heard it all my life: You know Alyssa, she’s gotta do it her way. She’s gotta find out the hard way. Every time. Well, I’m done. I submit to you, my love.

I got upset when you felt like you were disappointing your mom by lying to her about us. I shouldn’t have been angry — I know why you lied. We’re supposed to be going slow, giving our families a minute to catch up with us. I wasn’t truly upset with you… I was upset with myself. Because I believe you when you say you’ll tell her the truth — you are my oh-so-honest man — but I was upset with myself because it shouldn’t even be like this again. For first impressions, I failed. And my reputation precedes me… badly.

I’ve been thinking about Ephesians 5 — the chapter that talks about how husbands and wives should love each other. To paraphrase: Husbands, love your wives and give yourself up for her as Christ did for the church. Wives, submit to your husbands as the church submits to God.

Here’s the thing — I never liked that passage… until now. It’s been running through my thoughts constantly. The first time you asked me, “Why is this love to you?” I described all the things love wasn’t. But now… now I see the way you love me, and it feels like I’ve been given a second chance. And when I tell you, “Thank you for choosing me,” you say, “I never stopped” — just like God never stopped loving the church.

I just have so much guilt because I turned on you. I hurt you. I was mean to you. Disrespectful. Ungrateful. And of course, I had to take the hard way. I couldn’t see it at first, but I see it now — the way you love me — and I thank my Creator every single day.

But still… I wish I could have saved my soul the pain. Even with all this love we share, I still have to confront the choices I made and the people I let in, and deal with everything they left behind. I didn’t have to go through Bryeson and the betrayal, animosity, and self-loathing he left. I didn’t have to deal with the terror and fear of Brian. I didn’t have to live with the disposable feeling that comes after too many one-night stands, the kind that turns you into the girl who clings to men who made it clear it was just friends-with-benefits. I didn’t have to deal with the humiliation and chaos of Maine.

I could’ve just been loved. Cherished. Cared for. By you.

Sometimes I really hate the way I am. And I’ll probably feel this way for a while, because as much as we’ve grown — individually and together — I just know that until everyone in our lives is on level footing when it comes to our relationship, I’ll always wonder…

What if I had stayed?