Part 1: The End
A love that was supposed to last a lifetime.
It took a long time to walk away, too long most would say. She never told her friends what was going on behind closed doors. Year after year, she held it close to her chest and put a smile on her face. How could she tell her best friends, her sisters, his family, anyone, that the person she thought was the love of her life was consistently breaking her heart?
It became a ritual, truly. Months of being on a high, then heartbreak, into devastation, make up, rinse and repeat. She broke promises to herself every cycle. “I’m going to walk away next time,” she’d say, knowing she wouldn’t. He’s going to be better this time. He loves me. Deep down inside, she knew it was an absolute lie to make herself feel better.
The relationship wasn’t all bad. They traveled across countries, shared homes, merged families, experienced major life events, and so much more. He held her through tears when her family fell apart. He made her feel like the only girl in the world, every woman’s dream. They shared warm laughs and talked about how their future would unfold. If they would have kids and when, where’d they eventually settle down. Her friends welcomed and trusted him to protect her, hold her close, love her dearly. They’d come to realize this was a mistake.
Sometimes love is truly blind. Until it’s not.
They rekindled one last time. After a much needed break, they united, moved back to the city, and found their rhythm again. She wasn’t wary this time around, sure this would be it. But something shifted in her.
She spoke to God before they committed themselves to one another, yet again.
“God, I’ve failed you time and time again. You’ve given me sign after sign and still I believe this is the love for me. I know there will be challenges.” What a sorry excuse, calling what he did a simple challenge you get through. Far from it. “This is my last attempt. I promise you that at the first sign of trouble, the first sign of inexcusable actions, I will walk away. No questions asked. No fighting. I will walk away and trust your judgement.”
Two things became true: she was committed to the relationship and her promise to God to honor her self-worth.
Another year in, things were okay. Not great, but working. The love was evident, the partnership evolved. The lease was extended. “See God, this love will prosper.”
While she was working to build that feeling of home again, the old ritual felt like it was on the horizon. Though she wasn’t sure, her intuition itched and that gut feeling knocked at the door.
Soon, their conversations were shortened to almost nothing. The affection was practically gone. Physical touch was only out of necessity. It was happening. Her friends celebrated her more and more while he sat on the sidelines. It was happening. Strangers praised her and complimented her more than he ever had. No more “you look beautiful” sentiments before heading out. It was happening. He never dared to leave his phone out of his sight. It was happening.
There was no proof, but she’s lived this before. Time after time, she’d uncover the truth or it’d naturally come to light. This time, she didn’t seek the evidence because there was no more left in her. She was tired. If it was happening, it’d find her at the right time, in the right place.
During a return flight late fall, she realized they hardly spoke during her time away from each other. There were no phone calls, no goodnight texts, no “I love you” messages. Come to think of it, there hadn’t been an “I love you” in months, unless she shared the sentiment first.
He picked her up from the airport, stowed her bags in the trunk, and switched to become the passenger, without offering a ‘welcome back’ hug. She took her place in the driver seat. What he didn’t know was she was numb to this by now. There was no panic left in her. She was no longer begging for attention.
The days and nights passed. No change. Until the night finally arrived. It was happening.
She asked one question, just one, and she knew she’d have her answer. God whispered, “remember your promise to not only me, but yourself.”
“Would you let me go through your phone if I asked you to right now?” she asked calmly. A tone that took him by surprise.
She didn’t care to know his passwords this time around, didn’t want to track his location every second of the day. In her mind, they were going to survive or they weren’t. He, though, was oblivious to this change in her behavior.
Silence.
With a heavy sigh, he simply responded, “no.”
“Is it because I’ll find it?”
“Yes.”
Silence.
It was happening.
“We’re done. I’m done.”
She grabbed her keys and walked out their door. No tears in her eyes, no remorse, no emotions, she drove away numb. It was over long before it ended.
It happened.
Seven years later. The end was here.