Tomorrow would have been my anniversary.
A year ago, we were in a church, exchanging our vows and promising to be together until “death do us part.” And he left. Without a word.
I wanted to be married to him. I thought we were equal. I thought we were partners.
He was the love of my life. I always thought of him in dreaming up future plans. Even when I knew it was over, I thought of ways that it would be easiest on him. I knew we would both be hurt, but I was trying to figure out the less hurtful way of ending it.
He never thought of me at the same level. He was never open with me, but he forced me to tell him everything. He made me financially responsible for the household. It was fine when he was unemployed, but didn’t want to contribute even after he got a job and couldn’t understand why I needed money. He went out all the time after work and got drunk, and I just went to class then home. He was adamant about having a biological child and would only consider adoption as a last resort. Not a good thing to say to someone who is adopted.
I had him first in my heart.
He took a sledgehammer and broke it into pieces.
And now I just want to hide… disappear…