Yes, the hardest thing was admitting to myself that we could no longer be together, that marrying him would be the biggest mistake I could make.
I still remember little, naive, in-love me back when he proposed last December. I prayed, thought to myself: God, if this is not meant to work out, let nothing keep us together. If it is meant to work out, let nothing tear us apart.
Boy, if I only knew what I was saying.
It was necessary, but I wasn’t ready for it. I was not prepared for the heart-wrenching pain that came with my decision.
I have to believe that it was better than the daily disillusionment that would have come with being married to a man that refused to trust me, a man that I could no longer trust to love me as he should.
He kept pulling me back in, trying to tell me he would change this and that to make things right for us. But there were too many things, and he would not be able to change them all sufficiently enough for me to feel comfortable with going through with marriage. It also wouldn’t be fair for me to ask him to change so many things about his personality for my benefit.
I just need someone else, someone who is everything I need in a partner. I could no longer deny that I needed things that he couldn’t give me.
Everything was planned, in place, ready. We would be married, live in our house together, and have kids. And now here I am with broken shards of a life shattered on the floor.
As the saying goes, “the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry.”
The lesson learned from this terrible season is that plans are never set in stone. Not even the ones you feel 100% sure about. Something can and will go wrong.
In my life, I will no longer take things for granted. I need to always gear myself for the worst to happen, and not hold too tightly to my plans or assumptions.