Teacher

He doesn't understand me at all.

For him, love was something that just always left. 

Life ceased to be about love for him because he never knew how, because he never had it to begin with, because it left him. 

Because he was incapable of feeling love. 

I heard of a child who had two blind parents. They had a son, and everyone thought he was blind too. But, later in life, he did learn how to use his eyes.

They'd only thought he was blind because his parents never gave him a reason to see.

I don't blame the parents, what could be helped? And I don't blame the boy, he couldn't help it either. He never knew any better.

So I don't blame him. 

He doesn't know any better either.

 

But it hurts me to be around him, it hurts to watch the life gone from his eyes and it hurts me that it was him who taught me that love is not unconditional. 

That is why I will never be the one to teach him how to feel. 

I will sacrifice my own eyesight if I try to teach the blind man to see. 

I will sacrifice my own heart if I try to teach a miser how to love.

The fact remains that I will not, cannot, give up my own happiness for his. 

And though I know it wasn't his fault, the fact remains that he has not earned my love, and so he can never truly have it.

I regret for someone who cannot feel remorse.

I cry for someone who cannot feel.

I lament circumstances beyond anyone's control.

But I cannot teach him. I cannot teach him.