Writing these words is terrifying. For some reason, what happened to me feels like a failure. I’m still not certain that I am completely innocent.
I was with him for several years. We were engaged for almost a year and a half. One day, it all came tumbling down. It came out of the blue, and I wasn’t given a choice in what was happening. One second, I was picking out floral arrangements and the next, I was being informed that cancellations were being made.
I felt (and still feel) like a failure. We had to tell our family, friends, and vendors the wedding was off without much notice. What did I do wrong? If I had done something differently would I be married right now?
Of course, the logical part of me knows that what happened was for the best. The irrational part of me–the part that seems to take control daily–thinks otherwise. That part fixates on every detail of what went down and questions what life would be like now if none of it had happened.
Everyone goes through breakups. It happens every second of everyday. People get up and move on. So, why am I struggling so hard? For several weeks I did nothing but go to work and then go home and sleep. Luckily, I have another life I am responsible for. If it wasn’t for my dog, I am not sure if I would get up at all.
Telling my colleagues had me shaking. It shouldn’t have… I realize that now. But, in a world where you are supposed to leave your personal life at home, how was I supposed to open up that this event was affecting me so profoundly? It had rocked my world. I questioned everything in my life. I questioned just packing up and moving home. I took to my YouTube channel to share how it had affected me as an adoptee. Another rejection that I have to work through.
I had a hard time facing exactly what happened. I didn’t call it a breakup or called off wedding. I just called it:
I couldn’t even say the words in counseling. I remember walking in, sitting down, and saying, “Well my life just exploded.” And that was it. The story was coaxed out of me, but even now I start with The situation….
A few days ago, I remembered how before I started “adulting” and working, I wrote fiction for fun. I found it therapeutic and a way to process what was happening without attaching the story to me. So, I opened up my laptop and starting writing. I changed names and identifying details in case one day I choose to share it, but the events remained. Then I was led here. I realized I had to keep writing for me, and publishing it somewhere felt much better than letting the documents pile up on my computer. So, maybe one day I’ll share some chapters with the general public. For now, I’m okay with posting my random thoughts on a random blog.