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January 22, 2016 was supposed to have been the happiest day of my life. I do mean that in every sense of the word. It was to be my wedding day. The day where all my childhood dreams of matrimony were fulfilled. Me, wedded to a wonderful man. No one in my family thought it would happen, but I secretly hoped and then . . . it happened! I became engaged to a  truly wonderful man. He chose me! Can you believe it?! All my insecurities seemed to melt away in an instant.


Six months later he redacted his proposal and quietly shut the door on our four year relationship. People always ask me what happened. I never did get a straight answer from him. It was multiple things. The gravity of his decision weighed heavily on him. He sat on his uncertainty for seven months. Those closest to him had no idea what was going on with him, other than he was clearly troubled. He consulted with three people who did not know me directly. The bottom line was in his heart of hearts he had made up his mind. He sought advice from people who were not emotionally invested in us as a couple. In essence he looked for people to affirm his decision he had already made subconsciously. He began to distance himself from me, no pet names, withdrawal of affection, seeking out every opportunity not to communicate with me. He knew his words were going to hurt me and he didn’t want to confront me. In the end, I made him choke out the exact words to end up our relationship.

I am not mad at him or the way he treated me in the end. It was probably for the best. I take full responsibility for whatever it was that made him think twice. Who wants to be with a person who doesn’t want to be with them in return? Regardless of life plans and baby names? And all the worlds we made pretend? We simply were not meant to be together at this time, nor ever, I suppose.

But he didn’t just hurt me, he cut me to the bone in a way I never knew was humanly possible. He also irrevocably altered over 30 years of dreams to the point of . . .  instability. His actions were clear he did not want me and that I just wasn’t good enough for us. What does one do when the rug has been pulled out from under them? It makes me think of the song Where Do Broken Hearts Go? Seriously, where do they go??? I have died a thousands deaths over the remembrance of the reversal of his decision and have cried buckets of tears. Even after all these months, there isn’t a week that goes by that I don’t bawl for a good half hour. At least that is progress from hours of torment every day when the wound was still fresh.

Now if, on the off chance, I were to get married in the future to some other person (?!?!) What is the point of a wedding? Or a marriage for that matter? Dear Readers, I cannot express into words the terror I feel in this aspect of my life. It is ineffable. The mere thought of marriage results in an instant anxiety attack complete with hyperventilating. Someone asked what I would do if a man proposed to me. I replied, “I would black out”. Might as well set a pack of raptors out to get me. My biggest childhood dream has turned into my worst adult nightmare!

A part of me still wants to have “my wedding” but it all seems tainted now, as if everything I did with my ex-fiancé is off limits. I can’t have the big dress, the special veil, the secular venue or the big wedding full of laughter, love, and joy. The wedding is no longer important. It also begs the question, what do I do with my custom-made wedding dress, veil and honeymoon dress? Those bridal shoes? And . . . my broken heart?

In the blink of an eye, a dream was slaughtered. Truly slaughtered. I cannot stress the anguish of having such a dream writhe in pain and watching the light slowly fade from its eyes. Completely gutted. My dream was unique, because it requires TWO.

Not to diminish the harshness of reality when an athlete has to quit the Game due to injury, or people losing limbs and all that, because that is a whole different kind of pain and dead dreams! Athletes are known for their resiliency, they “could” continue the Game in a new capacity. With grit and determination they can achieve it all again. The same thing goes for a woman who always wanted to have children who suddenly finds out she can’t. Desperation, depression, and desolation weigh heavily upon her. I have seen it with my own eyes. Yet, there are ways to still acquire children; invitro, surrogacy, foster or adoption. These examples are physical and, more or less, individual.

Finding a spouse? Well that’s not physical. That’s emotional. Do not mistake me, I am not saying that my plight is worse than an injured athlete or a woman trying to conceive! What I am saying is that it is different. Each situation is extremely difficult.

And so . . . that is how it feels today. Difficult. I am doing by best to disassociate the calendar date with its original significance. So hopefully come 2017, it will just be like any other day and not another Anniversary of a Death. It has been six months since my engagement dissolved and soon I will buck up and force myself to meet new people, because Lord knows I am not getting any younger. I need to stop waiting, but to be proactive about my goals, whether its finances, career, or my love life. What’s more, is I will be fine. Life goes on. Today, I am paying my respects at the grave of a 33 year old Dream (and dine with my wedding planner, whom I now consider a close friend). Tomorrow, I’ll roll out of bed and plaster on a smile and get on with my plans for world domination.