Prologue
I smooth my dress and walk in to the classy restaurant. Another fancy dress and fancy restaurant hoping to meet a man that is somehow decent enough to have an outstanding relationship with. I’ve been desperate and I blame the books I’ve read at night that coloured love unexplainably beautiful that I became so desperate to find love through the internet.
My date was a surgeon, which is very interesting considering that he has devoted himself to saving lives. If they are capable of having such responsibility and do not mind taking care of others, what could go wrong taking care of their significant other.
Scanning through the restaurant, I see a man dressed in a Ralph Lauren polo shirt and some khaki pants. He looks the same as his profile photo, blond hair and kind green eyes. He looks neat and I am delighted to meet this guy.
When he notices me walking towards him, he stands up offers an awkward hug and then beams at me. I offer a small smile “I am sorry for being a bit late”
We talk throughout the dinner never having a dull moment. At some point, they had to remind us they were about to close because we were glued to our seats. So much things in common. He was a proper man, the one in books. His interests were as proper as he spoke and behaved. He enjoyed time golfing, attended charity events, donated blood and wanted to have children.
He spends holidays at home with his family, owns a beach house and likes to fish at some weird lake I didn’t pay attention to. He is not too sporty but he is not blank on the topic either. He likes dogs and has been wanting to adopt another after his previous dog died.
He spoke highly of his father and you could see he was raised in a proper home. He had perfection printed on his face, on his words. The first kiss we shared felt too dirty because in my eyes this was the most beautiful man and oh so perfect what could possibly go wrong.
And a few years passed enough for me to know he talks in his sleep and we could joke about it in the morning. Dated long enough to know he hated the taste of honey but would not hurt a bee.
Which is why, I am so confused and hoping to wake up from this horrendous dream where I am sitting with a divorce lawyer. Where the hell did it go wrong? I worshipped this man, I’ve been the perfect wife just as he was perfect so where the fuck did I go wrong?
“Miss Coleman, do you understand that half of his assets will be transferred to you?” The woman has been talking to herself. I’m not listening but I am aware of her sighs and irritated tone as she continues to explain things. I was a therapist, I should have seen the signs where this man was displeased.
I avert my gaze to look at the lawyer but I ask her a question that has nothing to do with the financial discussion. I don’t give a fuck where the money goes or if I get half a rug from that house.
“Do you think he cheated? Or had an affair?” I ask her, she swallows and I could see that she had not practiced such a question. It was unexpected. She seemed me as the type of a person to practice what she was going to say over and over just to get words right and fight off the anxiety on her shoulders.
She doesn’t know the answer to that question. Hell I didn’t know either. That man, Harry was his name refused to even see me and talk it through. I have just been meeting all these divorce lawyers, people who wait for marriages to break so they can earn a living. On a serious note, divorce lawyers should not exist. They manifest bad luck on marriages.
I shake my head and realise, none of these people ghosted me and divorced me. They were just doing their jobs. With the million shattered pieces of my heart, I decide that I should just let it go. I didn’t want a restraining order. I didn’t want to push him if anything I should understand boundaries and I should understand that sometimes things just don’t work out.
For the next month, I take my time off work. I moved to a better place. I meditated, joined more book clubs where I happened to read a 600 pages books for a few days. A way to escape. It was horrible and I wasn’t exactly the same person. Heartbreaks are traumatic. A broken heart hurts physically and mentally. It drains you and you almost seem lifeless.
That surgeon occupied my thoughts less and less and soon I was able to go back to work and have long days listening to clients speak of their anger, cry on that couch or some of them throw a fit. I was finally falling back to my old routine and that felt safe it felt fine. I was no longer desperate for love as I have once been.riting here…
