Again, picture is generated by an AI
Looking back at October 31, I handled everything with an unusual level of calmness—calling for emergency help, ensuring he was taken to the hospital. I did what needed to be done, but at no point did I feel anxious or angry.
A hospital staff member, possibly from accounting or administration, came by multiple times asking for his insurance information. He spent a long time searching his phone, hoping to find an insurance card or any relevant details—from his email? [Seriously, from email???] But he found nothing. [Strange, considering he always claimed to be the head of software programs at a tech company. Shouldn’t he have excellent health insurance?]
Wouldn’t calling his office be the fastest way to find out? [That was my thought, so I asked.] He insisted no one was there since they weren’t working in the office. [Huh.] I even helped him search his email. [Funny, isn’t it?] Eventually, the hospital classified him as uninsured and assigned him to a state program.
Later, I realized that my composure wasn’t indifference; it was the absence of expectations.
In the ER, a woman texted him for something. Meanwhile, I kept wondering why his cousin hadn’t reached out at all—I had even left a note at his house before heading to the ER. [He had told me that his cousin, his cousin’s wife, and their two children lived with him.]
I pushed him several times to text or call his cousin to let them know he was in the ER. But he insisted on not bothering his cousin during working hours, saying his cousin would get angry if disturbed. [What the F—what could possibly be more important than the fact that he was in the ER??? I seriously questioned this in my mind.] [At this moment, I still didn’t doubt his honesty—just found the whole family dynamic incredibly strange.]
Later, that woman finally called him. By that time, he was barely conscious, so I took over the phone and told her that I was his friend and that he needed his relatives to step up and help him. [What a joke.]
Disappointment only exists where expectations do. When we expect something from someone—whether it be honesty, loyalty, or even basic decency—we create the potential for heartbreak when they fail to meet those expectations. But with him, I had long stopped expecting anything, or rather, I had never expected anything at all. I neither relied on him emotionally nor needed anything from him. Our connection had become nothing more than a habit, a pattern, or even a burden I had carried for years.
After he was transferred to the hospital ward, the truth finally came out. The woman was actually his wife, the so-called “cousin’s boy” was his son, and his cousin had never lived with him—having moved back to his home country three or four years ago.
Meanwhile, his cousin called from overseas, his wife called, and his son texted—not out of concern for his condition (at least, I couldn’t sense any worry from his son’s call), but to demand a Halloween costume!
That’s why, when the truth finally unraveled, I wasn’t devastated. There was nothing left to collapse because I had never built anything on trust to begin with. I simply watched as a 20-year deception fell apart, but it no longer had the power to hurt me. I was merely an observer, watching the inevitable end of a story that was never real in the first place.
This experience taught me something invaluable:
When you take a step back and see things from a higher perspective, it becomes easier to walk away without emotional baggage.
When you have no expectations, there can be no disappointments. And when there is no disappointment, letting go becomes effortless.
If you don’t expect people to change, you won’t be hurt when they don’t.
If you don’t place blind trust in someone, you won’t feel betrayed when they deceive you.
American-Born Cats! 
