I was 25 years old, and my life was perfect. I had a wonderful supportive fiancé, my childhood sweetheart. We had just bought our first home and were getting married in six months. To complete the picture I had a challenging but well-paid career that many people my age, can only dream of. And he was smart and successful and he was beautiful, and I loved him wholeheartedly.
My hobbies included wedding planning and making our home comfortable. Weekends were for meals out, exploring our new town, buying furniture and making slow-but-steady progress on the house (a doer-upper we got for a good price; and what’s more romantic than a young couple working together to create their dream home?) Our future was golden and I felt secure and confident. I bought a wedding dress in pearl-coloured silk and lace.
Do you know what comes next? Maybe you know what I didn’t; that when you reach that high point there’s only one way life can go.
He told me he didn’t love me anymore, and he couldn’t marry me. A niggling doubt had become a crushing weight and suddenly to him, everything we had created and worked for was a mistake. So much about me was suddenly wrong. Four months earlier we had bought a home, toasting our future in the bare living room with a mini bottle of champagne. Four years before that he had proposed and we celebrated and agreed to wait until we had built a strong foundation for our future, together. We had worked hard and we kept our promises. One of us kept our promise.
So my world has fallen apart and the future has vanished and I go over and over the last weeks and months and years thinking where did I go wrong, what could I have done to prevent this? The truth is I did the best I could to love and support him and maintain a strong relationship, if I was going astray he didn’t try to guide me back. Sometimes our best isn’t good enough and when we trust people with everything, we make ourselves vulnerable to total destruction.