realise now how poorly I’ve managed this whole thing. Should’ve done as so many times before: nudge him gently enough in the right direction so he could believe he was in command. Once I learned about the tumour, I should’ve told him I was unwell, let his doctors “discover” the illness + allow him to be in charge (nothing to be done anyway). It was a mistake to present him with the hopeless truth, supported by tests + examinations conducted behind his back. More than sad, he looked disoriented. And then I told him we were coming to this place. He followed, dutifully. I never let him be of
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