I'm afraid I'll never be able to love again. I am afraid that I will never be able to love again. When the wedding was over, Vanya came up to me, hugged me, looked into my eyes and said: “Thank you, father!” Tears were in his eyes again...

Janochka, hello! Thank you very much for you, your LiveJournal, your optimism, cheerfulness and love! You are very inspiring and direct on the true path, and I am sincerely grateful to you. My question is beaten and has long been discussed and obfuscated. But now in my life the moment has come when I don’t want to live, I don’t want to walk, breathe, and generally exist. Everything is trite to the limit - a loved one left me. This was preceded by several years of painful for both relationships, endless scandals and abuse. Nevertheless, a phone call with the words - I will not return to you, there are no feelings left, it's all over - it just crushed and destroyed me.

I do not understand how to live on, and most importantly - why? Why is this all here - walking, breathing, eating, sleeping? It seems to me that there will be nothing more good in my life, although I am 29 years old, not 59. It seems to me that I will never be able to love anyone, and that no one will love me either. It's been a week now and I'm absolutely as bad as I was a minute after that call. I just break into molecules every minute, sob, and behave like a complete slob. How to get out of this state?

Nothing helps me - neither girlfriends, nor sports, nor books and music. And it seems like it will never end. How to continue to live? Forgive me for writing to you, but I just do not know where to get at least minimal support. I would be grateful for any feedback - whether in the question-answer section, or personally.

Hello!
I'm afraid the answer will be as banal as the question. Time will help you.
From your letter, I realized that there are girlfriends, sports, books, music. So do all this further (even if through force), try not to listen, read or watch anything sad and sentimental (I'm serious), and listen and watch only fun (that's right comedy), or positive-optimistic-fascinating. And then only time will help you.
A week is not enough. Well, if in two months he will let go. When a very important relationship suddenly breaks up like this, such pain does not go away in five minutes.

It’s probably not worth it at this place to breed platitudes like “well, what’s the point of living” and “you don’t need to endow other people with such abilities and qualities - the meaning of your life should not be reduced to any other person, this is your life.” All these "smart thoughts" will come to you when you "sober up" a little. but as long as you feel bad and hurt, it’s useless for you to say this, because you’re just hurt and unhappy.

Fortunately, all people have some kind of built-in mechanisms. At some point, any pain and any horror is dulled, because otherwise we could not bear it any longer. This is where yours will fade. And then you will have advice and persuasion from your friends, a million smart tips from the Internet, suggesting that the meaning of your life is still somewhere in you, and of course promises that you will find everything a hundred times over. And a couple, and love, and happiness, and everything you need.
I pass the baton to my beloved readers - let them console you.
Dear readers, comfort a broken heart!

Priest Andrei Pinchuk

He liked my wife. Cheerful, with intelligent, penetrating eyes. Then he was 13 years old. It seemed that he got into the orphanage by accident. By the will of evil fate. Well, not the orphanage was a boy!

The family council did not last long. The decision was made quickly. And now my application for the establishment of guardianship is already in the district service for children. Then the district service was headed by the odious and ambitious madam - Pani Shtyk. The funny thing is that no one called her by her last name, but all the officials “lovingly” called her none other than Shtychka. Well, Shtychka and Shtychka. So I asked in the building of the district council, where is Shtychka sitting here? I didn't know, but everyone laughed.

This woman flatly refused to accept my application. And I refused to leave her office, sat down and decomposed, deciding to myself that at least I would go on a hunger strike, at least I would live here - but my application would be accepted. The official called the police. Thank God, the knight of truth had his head on his shoulders and did not drag me out of the office, seeing my determination and the fact that I would cling to all the furniture that came under my hands, and without help he simply could not cope.

I had to write a statement to the prosecutor's office. She stood up, and the service for children's affairs had no choice but to carry out our case through the board of trustees and prepare an order from the head of the district to establish guardianship over Vanya. When I came to Pani Shtyk for the last time, she swore to me that she would take all the adopted children from me back to the orphanage. She assured me that she would never leave me or my family alone.

To fulfill my plan, I mentally wished her good health and longevity, and at the same time warned her that she could break her teeth like that. About me. She then worked for a short time. Either a criminal case was opened against her, or something else happened in our area - but she was expelled. As the saying goes, "God is not in power, but in truth."

Vanya did nothing and began to run away from home

It took us 3 months of struggle to take Vanya. When I brought Vanya home, everything was fine for the first couple of days. The tension began to grow when I saw that he was not going to do anything: neither study nor help around the house. He ate and watched TV all the time. When I tried to say that this is not an orphanage, we do not have cleaners and cooks, the answer was: “How? Am I supposed to do something? Ugh! And I thought that you took me away so that I could rest and do nothing!”

It was the beginning of the end. Vanya resisted everything. Words could not explain anything to him. It was impossible to speak frankly - it was closed. Theft, removal from the house of what can be taken out and sold, an attempt to build hazing in the school, constant complaints from the parents of classmates - this was an incomplete list of what we encountered. On dark evenings, together with a couple of renegades, he surrounded empty houses, giving the owners the opportunity to rejoice upon arrival at their haciendas. The tension grew every day.

Dad began to incite Vanya to run away and go somewhere deep in Russia to his grandmother. Vanya often ran away from home. Just to dad, who lived somewhere in the area of ​​​​dacha towns on Igren - one of the most distant regions of Dnepropetrovsk. Or just left home and wandered around the city.

Every time he left, I had an incredible panic: I always imagined that he would be in some kind of trouble, something would happen to him, God forbid he would die, and - hello, prison!

A huge number of people took part in the search for Vanya: my friends, parents of other adopted children. Everyone understood that it is difficult to imagine a greater evil in a foster family than a “runner” child. After they found Vanya, I had to lie down for a day. My legs just refused to move. During the search, I kept up the good work, but then I turned into a plant. By the way, there were two such “runners” in our family. The second appeared a few years later.

And I began to betray

At some point, everything got to me. And the endless losses to the family budget, and the tears of my wife Olya, and the lack of peace and stability in the family. I began to… betray. Stayed late at work whenever possible. I didn't want to go home and see Vanya or anyone else.

I got depressed. I left home as early as possible and returned as late as possible. The whole blow in that period of our life was taken by Olya, my soul mate. Where I can't stand it, she always does.

A huge negative feeling in relation to Vanya has grown in my heart - a feeling of rejection, bordering on I don’t know what. I knew that I did not love him and could never love him again.

I couldn't even look at him! I felt extremely uncomfortable just being around him. Couldn't help it. Sometimes he squeezed words out of himself in order to talk to him about something that it was impossible not to talk about. About life.

Neither reading smart books, nor prayer, nor anyone's advice helped. We ran around who we could. We consulted with everyone who could give us advice or just listen and comfort. The family was falling apart before our eyes. We even made a special trip to St. Petersburg to see a well-known foster mother, the head of the Parental Bridge. She put on her feet and coped with children and more difficult than Vanya. Wanted to get some advice. Marina, of course, comforted and inspired us. But hope did not last long. Everything was in vain.

Nothing has changed. Every day it got worse and worse. Vanya was carried. It was scary. His actions have long gone beyond the acceptable. Olya became afraid to leave her children at home. And often cried. And Vanya did not regret anything, constantly lied, never apologized, never cried. Monster! Daemon! It was clear that it would not last that long.

“Do you understand that he will roll down?”

In his next escape, he went to the orphanage, from where we once took him. The director, who called me on the phone, said that he had come to his group and did not want to go to live with us anymore. I breathed a sigh of relief, grabbed his personal file and went to the head of the district, in whose jurisdiction was the orphanage.

I didn’t go in, I flew into the office of the head of the district and threw Vanya’s personal file on his desk with the words: “Here! Take your child. I hand over safe and sound!” The head of the district looked at me through his glasses and asked me to sit down.

I have only three questions for you. Could you answer them for me? I won't delay you.

"Let's go," I replied nervously.

“You understand,” he began, “that as long as Vanya is in your family, there is a struggle for him, a hard struggle. But when he ends up in my orphanage, this struggle will stop, and Vanya will roll down. Forever and ever. Do you understand it?

“Yes,” I said in surprise, unusually struck by the frankness of an official of this level.

- You understand that a week, a month, a year will pass ... You will cool off. Everything will be forgotten. All bad things will be forgotten. You will forgive him. But you will never be able to forgive yourself for this act. Never! You understand?

“Yes,” I said, bowing my head. After all, I myself understood all this and thought about it more than once.

- Do you understand that I will now put just one stroke of the pen and Vanya will remain in the orphanage?

I nodded in the affirmative.

So should I sign? Or do you still think?

“I'll think about it,” I said, taking Vanya's personal file and trudging to the exit from the office.

A slight smile flickered across the district manager's face.

I could not fall in love, I decided to get married and let go

I took Vanya from the orphanage. A second time. When I brought him home, he huddled in the corner of his room and cried for a long time, about three hours. Cried! Cried!!! Three hours, three o'clock!..

The next morning he was different. Gradually, our relationship began to improve. Vanya graduated from the 9th grade and went to college. We supported him throughout the years. I never could love him. The emotional wounds never healed. Forgive - forgive. But I couldn't love.

It was the same with Vanya. In addition, he was still weighed down by the fact that I try to control both his behavior and his studies. He demanded absolute and limitless freedom, which I could not give him.

After some time, Vanya said that his girlfriend was pregnant and he wanted to get married. "Well, thank God! I thought. - Let's play a wedding, and he will finally be free. I'll let him go."

The wedding was played, "as expected." Painting, wedding, cafe for 60 people. The wedding was attended by the director of Vanya's orphanage, and the head of the regional service for children. After all, their pupil. Vanya's chosen one was also from the family orphanage. I wanted to give Vanya the last gift before letting him go. And not to appear in his life again: I knew that he was waiting for this freedom and that I was disturbing him with my constant and vigilant control.

The bride was irresistible in her dress and in general - her beauty. We walked for glory! Lots of young people, rivers of champagne, dancing till you drop.

When the wedding was over, Vanya came up to me, hugged me, looked into my eyes and said: “Thank you, father!” Tears were in his eyes again...

From that moment, the moment when I thought that I was letting him go completely and irrevocably, we became close. Many years later. Vanya and I see each other very often. I love his children, especially the younger one - he is the same naughty butuz as Vanya. And with Vanya ... we have a special relationship with him. I don't know what to call it - respect, maybe. Or maybe friendship. We both remained the same stingy in words and feelings.

P.S. I kept thinking: who is he, this head of the district, that he treated me so mercifully? Why? I asked him this question 5 years later, when he rose through the ranks and became, well, a very respected official in education. He took off his glasses, looked at me and said: “I have one child. We adopted a boy. Now he is graduating from high school. I just understood you."

I'm 28 years old. I broke up with a girl 3 years ago, we were together for 8 years, I had enough girls before her to understand that this is her.

Not at all my former type, cheerful, friendly, simple, honest, fundamentally pure and correct to the point of disgrace, but not like any religious bigots, she really had the inner dignity to do the right thing, no matter what. But there were also disadvantages, for example, terrible cooking, but with such a set of advantages, they did not bother me.

We were, without spilling water, everywhere together, shared everything, friends considered us the strongest couple, if necessary, we went, for example, to our parents, then they chatted on the phone every day for 5 hours, we went through a lot together, and losses, and good events , supported each other, made plans, prepared for the wedding. I worked hard for a promotion, I got my own housing. The site really wanted her to need nothing.

At some point, she pulled away, felt that she had fallen out of love and wants to be let go. We talked. I didn’t want to, but I let it go, it was very painful, but what other options do I have? I will not wallow at my feet, and it is useless. She thanked, left, found herself the one she needed. For some time they maintained communication at her request, they say, it would be easier for her to survive this, then they stopped.

I left everything in place, only hid the photos. Her clothes were in the closet, but she didn't take them away. I didn't want to see her to give her away. Toothbrush, comb, cosmetics, her gifts to me, all in the same places where they were left. I often dream that we quarrel, and then I can’t fall asleep for half the night. There is a feeling that the person I loved has died, and the world has collapsed around, all plans, all aspirations, what is the point now. In my head, very often I have a dialogue with her, we chat, share thoughts with each other, remember our walks, travels, some good moments on the site.

I often remember the smell of her hair, her eyes, her jokes, phrases. It makes me feel a little better when I think about her. I can't even be mad at her for more than 5 minutes. I don't know why, I just don't want to. I want to remember good things about her, to blurt out mud, especially on the Internet in front of everyone, in order to get angry and let go (for a long time?) It would not be ethical. I don’t want to start a new relationship, it will be wrong in relation to a new person if I am so attached to the former. I don’t want to return it either, this is another person whom I don’t know. It itself, apparently, does not pass even in three years, and who knows whether it will pass. Wrote my findings and deleted. I'd rather listen to others. How to forget, let go and stop grieving? Is it worth it?