I sat waiting for the inevitable confrontation. This wouldn't be pleasant, but things needed to be said and acknowledged.
Things were so hopeful in the beginning, but alas, it wasn't to be. Red flags revealed themselves early on, but I let them slide, thinking maybe we could salvage the relationship. Maybe it was just typical adjustment period stuff. Maybe it could work out for the long haul.
But who was I kidding? Deep down, I knew from the start. Something just wasn't right. Life was good, I'd even say it was better than before. But... but...
He entered the room, and already I knew that he knew. He looked so sad, so defeated. He was sincerely apologetic. He chalked it up as a loss, a loss that he mourned.
I felt bad for him. Honestly, I felt worse for him than I felt for myself.
"It's not your fault", I assured him. "I'd do the exact same thing again, not knowing the outcome. Nothing is 100% guaranteed"...
That retrograde root canal - apicoectomy - I had six months ago? Didn't work, long story short.
I'm now scheduled to have that bastard of a tooth extracted from my head next week. Good riddance, I won't miss it.
I do feel bad for that endodontist, however.
"It's not you, it's me"