The Love He Erased
378 Views · Ongoing · Joy Brown
My husband sent me to a clinic to erase my "attachment distress" toward him and our daughter.
He said I was too obsessive, too clingy, that my love was suffocating him. So the day I found he'd booked three tickets to Zurich—one for himself, one for our daughter, one for another woman—I signed the consent form.
He said the treatment was temporary. That once I was "better," we'd still be a family.
Three months later, I walked out of that clinic. I remembered the white roses at our wedding. I remembered sitting up all night with our daughter when she had a fever. I remembered every time he'd told me he loved me. All those memories were still there, as clear as if they'd happened yesterday.
But when he stood before me holding flowers, eyes red, asking why I wouldn't fight anymore, why I wouldn't cry, why I didn't love him anymore—I could only tell him calmly:
I remember loving you.
That feeling, though? It's really gone.
He thought he was erasing my pain. He had no idea what he'd actually erased.
He said I was too obsessive, too clingy, that my love was suffocating him. So the day I found he'd booked three tickets to Zurich—one for himself, one for our daughter, one for another woman—I signed the consent form.
He said the treatment was temporary. That once I was "better," we'd still be a family.
Three months later, I walked out of that clinic. I remembered the white roses at our wedding. I remembered sitting up all night with our daughter when she had a fever. I remembered every time he'd told me he loved me. All those memories were still there, as clear as if they'd happened yesterday.
But when he stood before me holding flowers, eyes red, asking why I wouldn't fight anymore, why I wouldn't cry, why I didn't love him anymore—I could only tell him calmly:
I remember loving you.
That feeling, though? It's really gone.
He thought he was erasing my pain. He had no idea what he'd actually erased.

















































