I used to believe that it would be worth it to fight for love. Maybe it still is, but at this point in life, it's not. Since love can either be a strength or weakness, it just depends on which cycle it falls upon. Every fight is different, the meaning for the fight, the reason for the fight, the resolve for the fight. For every ebb and flow in the force, there's also a pause in between. When the longest pause comes, it's a prelude for the biggest ebb or flow of destruction and chaos.
If I was to win at love, I suppose I would still feel that love could conquer all obstacles. However since I lose at love again, I have to default that love is a very weak force. After all I have two children to raise with love and kindness. In essence I was the single parent all of their lives, since their mom was never in any shape or form a mother to them other than giving birth to them. Never would I had thought I would end up with such a person who's transgression goes beyond my imagination. I think that the post-pregnancy depression is a lousy excuse for a mother's negligence of their own child to the point of passive homicidal attempts. Let's just say that I will kill to protect my children, even if it was their mother. Pause right there.
Is this how love changes...or my reason(s) changes? It's not that I don't love my wife, it's that my love doesn't matter to a heartless person. So heartless that she will kill her own children just so she can go out and have fun. I have no idea of what she consider's fun, but adultery seems to be a big part of it. What can I say, once a cheater is always a cheater. The elder's advice of loving your wife too much and she will turn on you. Yes, there was wisdom in that. I regret accepting her and being used by her. I regret bringing into this world two children that will face a lot of hardship yet to come in their lives. However I cannot live my life in regret. Pause right there.
I have to live for my children. I have to fight for my children. Nobody knows how to be a parent until it's too late and I'm no exception. I do hate being stuck on pause or attempting to climb out of a pit that's keeps getting bigger and deeper. I grow weary of life in itself. Yet I still have no idea why I'm thankful for being alive. For my salvation, for my next life, for my children...