What May really brings

24 May

I’ve held off on this because, quite honestly, I didn’t want to admit it to even myself.  I approached May with optimism and with the hope that it would be just one more seemingly meaningless milestone.  In the interest of dramatics though: uh, Memorial Day weekend is here.

Here is what May has really brought: reliving the final weeks of my ill-fated engagement in such excruciating detail that I am emotionally and mentally exhausted.  When no one is looking of course.  I’m trying, in utter vain and for the first time  in a very long time, to figure out how on earth I didn’t see this coming.  There must have been clues.  Signs.  A warning of some sort.  An irrepairable argument.  A shift in his behavior.  A different feel to his touch.  A distant tone to his “I love you”.  Something.  Anything.  The “nothing” I was left with just seems so unsettling.

We had dinner with his parents who were in town.  We picked out wedding invitations.  He went to Houston for work.  We celebrated his nephew’s first birthday.  I shopped for bridesmaids dresses with the girls.  We went to Long Island for a friend’s wedding.  I spoke at a Columbia alumni networking event; he seemed proud.  We spent Mother’s Day with his family.  I met him at a wine bar for my friend’s 29th birthday.  I bought a wedding dress…that I would never wear.

This is not something I agonize about daily, ever really, however the emotional torture I’m putting myself through is inevitable as this final milestone comes to pass.  I want to be clear: this is not about my ex-fiancé, our once relationship or our broken engagement.   This is about me.  My perceptions; how I take in my environment; how I read those closest to me; how I possibly let this get past me.  I’ve written before about being shaken to the core; about not seeing the potential for this in the person I was closest to in the world.  There is a sheer terror that comes with realizing you didn’t understand your environment enough to recognize that you were falling asleep in the arms of someone who would betray you and become a total stranger.  I’m trying, in the shadow of this terrible anniversary, not to be afraid of my own judgment – clearly not my strongest quality – and to let go of this deep-seeded fear of trusting again.  Oddly enough, not trusting someone else, but trusting myself.  Trusting myself to trust again.  Someone said to me a few weeks ago that, at our age, we all bring some sort of baggage to the table in our relationships moving forward.  But really, what do you do when the baggage is, quite simply, everything you once knew to be true in a relationship that meant the world to you?  Does that imply that the baggage is ultimately…you?

In the interest of staying at sea level, this is it; the last milestone.  My year of “just getting through” is about to come full circle.  As of Tuesday, there’s nothing to which I won’t be able to say, “I’ve already survived this once”…


4 Responses to “What May really brings”

  1. Allie June 3, 2011 at 1:53 am #

    my story is so unbelivably similar to yours; you put into words what i feel now and how i felt the day my husband left, unexpected and with no explanation, so well.

    • unweddedblissblog June 7, 2011 at 8:12 pm #

      Once you start talking about it, it is unbelievable how many people have gone through a similar experience. I hope that like my journey, you find yourself in a little bit better of a place with each passing day! Thanks so much for reading Allie!


  1. Year two…? « Unwedded Bliss - July 7, 2011

    […] not a secret, or hopefully that much of a surprise, that I got through Memorial Day (or how!) but what I’ve come to recognize is that despite my apparent aversion to […]

  2. Holiday weekend handiwork « Unwedded Bliss - September 12, 2012

    […] ago or even last year. Instead, it was the Labor Day weekend I had been waiting for.  Watch out Memorial Day.  You’re next. Share this:EmailFacebookTwitterDiggLinkedInPrintLike this:LikeBe the first to […]

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: