Choices

The last time I stayed in this room was shortly after I made an offer that would change my life. I knew that then, of course, thought if I had been aware of exactly how my life would change I would have been more hesitant to make such an offer. But I did. That was, if I had to put a number on it, the first choice I made that contributed to this tragedy. Others made their own choices of course, but I do not bear responsibility for theirs, only mine. My next choice was to allow myself to fall in love. I do not regret this because I fell in love with a wonderful person - smart, beautiful, trustworthy, dependable, a person who loved me in spite of all my flaws, for I had not hidden them from her. And my husband and I both saw these things, and together we invited her into our hearts and our home. That was the third choice, and though it was shared it was my own choice. In many ways I do not regret it, even now. It was an unwise choice, yes. But I risked much in hopes of gaining much, and I thought, and still do think, that what we all stood to gain was more than worth the risk.
The fourth choice was less conscious than the first three, born of pain and confusion. In the wake of unexpected and unintended betrayal I allowed myself to withdraw. Without intending to I pushed my two Loves away from me. It was this choice, I think, that most of the tragedy rests with, this choice and the next. Because the next choice was the stupidest of all, the most idiotic choice I have ever made. Ignoring all I knew of myself and of them, I chose to leave ("but wait," you say, "you said you were kicked out!" Patience. I'm getting there). I talked of finding a lover who loved all of me. I never spoke of breaking up with my Loves because I did not intend to. But I spoke of moving out. I searched for apartments. I almost managed to get one. But then I stopped, and remembered who I am, and who I loved, and what was really important in life, and I realized the stupidity of what I had nearly done. And I chose again, this time to stay, and to rebuild whatever damage I had caused because of the last two choices.
There is much I could say at this point. I will sum it up this way: there was pain and anger and sorrow had by all, and it was too late. And so I made the final choice. I did not want to make it. I made it slowly, begrudgingly, against my will. I made it kicking and screaming and throwing things. I could have stayed where I was unwanted and unloved, where I had been asked to leave and told my presence caused only pain. My name was on the lease, I had just as much right to remain there in my home as they did. I could have stayed there, yes, causing people I did and still do love misery until they left or found a way to truly force me to leave. So in a sense you could say I was not kicked out, and that would be true. But though I left, I did not want to, and would still have been willing to work things out, so in a sense the opposite is true as well. Foolishly I would still be willing to work things out, because in spite of everything I still love them. But in the end, rather than perpetuating a situation that made all our lives nearly unbearable, I made the unwilling choice to leave.
These are my choices. I bear the joys and regrets, the pride and shame of them myself, for I made them all. In the same way, I do not and refuse to bear the shame or regret of your choices. You made them, not I, and you must bear their weight yourself.