this is my life

Having lived for nearly 20 months now after the event that ended my life as it was, I wonder not why I do it, but how.  The why is obvious - because I have no choice.  Ending my life, although still eminently desirable is too violently hurtful to people, who do not deserve to be hurt more.  Living is only hurtful to myself.  And I deserve it.  I don't mean because I am responsible for an accidental death thousands of miles away.  Logic says I am not.  But I deserve to be alone.  Without a child, or a lover.  I had those, but I couldn't keep them.  Therefore, this is my natural state.  So I must get used to it.  I don't hate myself enough to kill myself, so in order to continue living I must relinquish the self-hate as best I can.  I no longer pine after a do-over.  That would mean I think I deserved better.  I don't.  This is acceptance.  This is my life.