Deserve's Got Nothing to Do with It

One of my favorite movies is still “Unforgiven” with Clint Eastwood, Morgan Freeman, and Gene Hackman. One of the lines that still stands out for me is the title for this entry, “Deserve's got nothing to do with it.” It's what Clint says to Gene Hackman just before shooting him. Hackman's saying he doesn't deserve it (to die), that he's building a house. The implication was that he was just doing what he thought was right. Admittedly, part of that was being an utter bastard, even if it was in the service of trying to keep the peace in his town. At that point, Clint was right. Deserve really didn't have anything to do with it. There was lots of stuff that was deserved that didn't happen. Not everyone who was bad got punished, or at least not as they deserved...however that might be determined. It just ended the way it did.

One of the things that I've found happens to me when I'm really stressed or tired or worn out is that I do find myself wondering what I might've done to deserve this. To have to deal with the aftermath of my wife ending her life. Intellectually, I know it's not the case. When I'm not worn down, those thoughts really don't come up anymore. But, at those times when I am depleted, they come back. Did I do something to her to bring it on? To someone else before we met? Maybe in a previous life? And what the Hell would someone do to actually deserve this?

What's sometimes even harder is when it's not just wondering about what I'm struggling with. Sometimes, I find myself wondering what I did to deserve to be living in this house. It is, after all, more space than I need (which is one reason, among others, I think it'd be a good idea to move). It's certainly more than I could've managed to get if she and I hadn't been together. Or how do I deserve to still be here? I can't think of anything particularly outstandingly good I've done that'd fit for deserving this, either. It just sometimes doesn't seem to make sense.

At times like that, I have to remind myself that, in this situation, deserve really doesn't have anything to do with it. It just is what it is. Maybe when it's my turn to shuffle off this mortal coil, I'll be able to ask whatever Power (or powers) that be what the Hell this was all about...and why.

Until then, it's just a matter of putting one foot in front of the other. Keep breathing. Keep moving. Keep healing. Keep trying to figure out how to actually live this life I have.

What I Knew, What I Know..

When I was in high school, one of my favorite bands was The Scorpions. I liked the hard rock/heavy metal sound. I enjoyed the energy and drive of it. And I liked the mix of music that was about having wild, fun times and the occasional power ballads that were more sentimental. It fit for me. Even with all the anger I had, there was still that part that wanted to believe in love, in the idea of finding someone. Of finding a soulmate, and that if you loved each other enough, then it'd all be all right. It wasn't the promise that love would make everything easy, or that there wouldn't be hard times. But if there was love between you, then it'd work out OK in the end and you'd get to be happy and together. For me, nothing epitomized that more than this song:

 It's about the idea that things haven't gone well. There are problems. There are hurt feelings. There's distance between y'all. There's also still the hope of it working out. And the best that's available to bring as a reason to give things another chance is....love. After all, “still loving you.” That seemed to fit with the idea of marriage being something that's for richer and poorer, for sickness and health, for better for worse, until Death do you part....and maybe not even then. Love is what holds it all together. You just love each other as hard and as strong as you can. End of story.

One of the hardest lessons I had to learn, and I still get reminded of it, is that things are rarely as simple as they seem. Don't get me wrong. I still think love is fantastic. I still think it's amazing. I still think that it makes just about everything possible. However, I don't think it's the end-all, be-all of things working out between two people. I don't think it's what'll hold a relationship together. I don't think that you just can sit there and feel it with all the might you can summon and...things will be happy the way I want. Yeah, it doesn't work that way. You do need to have love, but you need other stuff, too: dedication, tolerance of discomfort, commitment, work, etc.

It's one reason why the last power ballad the Scorpions put out has impressed me so much. The last one, “Lorelei,” is more about having been in love and having had to walk away. Because sometimes love doesn't last. Sometimes relationships don't work out. And it doesn't mean that it hurts any less, or that it doesn't keep hurting over time, even if it's sporadic. And sometimes the harder thing is knowing when to let go...and continuing to not hold on or grasp back at what was:

There were a lot of good things to the time my wife and I shared. I've been able to remember them more clearly in the last couple months. In some ways, it's a blessing. In others, it makes it hurt worse, at least for now. The fact there were good things, that there was love there, isn't undone by her choice to end her life. At the same time, that love wasn't enough. Not on her part, or mine. It's not as simple as love will make it work. If it didn't work, there wasn't love, or not enough. That it was ALL a lie. Maybe some of it was. But not all.

Hell is tricky. It's not just great pits of fire or huge demons roaring hard enough to make the air shake brandishing red-hot giant tridents. The torments aren't just made up of the wailing or weeping or screaming. Part of what makes Hell what it is is that it's sometimes subtle. It's sometimes tricky. Sometimes it's not as simple as it seems.

Sometimes...