My darling hero, I don't want you to feel like my carer

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By Jake Catterall

Dear Gorgeous,

I write this because I don’t know how to say it with words. It’s a letter to you explaining who I am, and why I appreciate everything you do. This is unedited, raw and painful to write. We just had a massive argument, possibly the biggest one that we have ever had. You said to me how you feel like my carer. I can only say how sorry I am that I feel, and you feel, that we have lost our way right now.

You did not sign up for all this shit

I am possibly the most erratic person to be around right now, coming off my medication and going onto new ones soon. I can only imagine how unhappy you must be. Sometimes I go into the toilets at work and just cry. I think about how you must feel that you must have made a mistake proposing to me, that you did not sign up for all this shit.

I am sorry, and I cannot express in words how much I wish I was not me. I’m the luckiest person on the planet to have such a gorgeous, supportive star by my side. I’ve no excuses for how life feels right now, all I can say is, I feel fucked up, I feel drained and I feel broken. Please know that I am working the hardest I ever have to get fixed right now and I am taking a big leap.

I will always care for you

I’m hoping you do not regret proposing to me, exploring with me and living with me. I don’t want you to feel like my carer, but at the same time that is what love is, and I’ll always care for you.

My past is so fucked up that a permanent hole has been crafted into me, I am trying to fill it again with pills but it just keeps failing after a short time. I was a heavy drug addict. I’m not saying that lightly, I could not get through a day without my fix.

I was in an abusive relationship, the extent of which you don’t know because I cannot bring myself to say some of it because the words will bring it all back again. To other moments, that I do not feel ready to publish to the world.

I hope you don’t regret a second of our love, and I hope you continue to love me for many more years to come, until the point that we are 99 years old and holding each other in bed while we think of all the good times instead of the bad.

You make me want to live again

In the last 12 months I have come a long way, I have had surgery on my nose to fix the hole I made and I have made steps back into work and the right direction. I am sorry for all the hurt you feel, but please, be patient, I promise you it is worth it. You have made a broken soul, or how I say it, ‘a blackened heart’, start breathing again, you make me want to live again.

My tablets have made me numb, emotionally blunt. That is why I have been so difficult recently. I have felt like a shell on these tablets for months, just hoping it will get better. But it has got to the point where I have forgotten who I am.

That is not to say I have forgot my love. I love you just as deeply as I ever have, and still do every day. But it has been a scary few months. My personality seems to have faded and my drive for everything has almost gone. My tablets have got me constantly evaluating my memory because it has been so bad, I have even been worried at points that it was something more sinister.

I don’t want you to feel like my carer

I’m sorry for the long letter, if you have even read this far. Believe me, I could have gone on for much longer. I have never hurt you, I will always love you. My missing piece is you. My heart that was shattered and my soul that was stolen a long time ago have been growing back, because of the life you have put into me again.

I am sorry that you feel like my carer. But I am not sorry that you made that huge mistake of proposing to me. Because without you, I would be nothing.

I will care for you.
I’ll fight for you.
I will support you in anything you want to do.
I’ll make your darkness go away, even if I cannot always with mine.
I will always try.
But most importantly.
I will always LOVE you.

Thank you my gorgeous beautiful man.
Te amo ex toto corde.

Jake
xxxxxxx

Reproduced with permission, originally published here