Heartbreaker

As a woman, my intuition is a well-trained bloodhound. I knew I should have trusted my gut, but I was falling hard and I loved you for everything you were. “You’re going to break my heart, right?” It made my soul tremble like I was petting a lion. Danger imminent, it shouted. At that moment I was flying too high to listen.

Dating these days typically begins on the apps. Our love story does not stray from the trend. We texted and called until we felt sure that we were ready to meet in person. Within a few weeks, I was elated to meet this man. He seemed charming, funny, and kind. Since it was early fall, late October, the pumpkin patch seemed like an appropriate public place to do our first meet.

At the gates, I met tall, dark, and handsome. His blue eyes and lopsided smile showed his small-town charm. At first, I was intimidated, having to look up to speak to him, but our conversation never ended. I could joke with him easily.

He moved quickly, wanting to hold my hand on the second date. By the third, he asked me to be his girl, and we sealed the deal with our first kiss. I was infatuated, and he surprised me continuously with his wit. It was the way he finished my thoughts that won me over.

“I should’ve made fruit salad,” I commented about dinner. 

“Yummy, yummy!” He replied in a sing-song tone. 

Aghast, I couldn’t believe anyone could quote the Wiggles. Although I used the phrase frequently, it had never happened to me. Is this what falling in love feels like? People describe that feeling of just knowing somebody is the one. I would never look at anyone else the same.

The day we decided to be exclusive was marked with easy reminders.

“When is our anniversary?” he would ask over the phone.

“That’s easy, Veterans Day.”

“Put it in your calendar. I made mine pink, for the color of love.” He schmoozed

To be so vulnerable and sweet and mindful of the little things. I had to believe I would never find another like him. "And yet, he might twist my heart in two one day" my conscience would feverishly whisper.

The more we talked, the more everything felt right. We discussed star signs (Cancer and Taurus, a match made in heaven), attachment styles, and our dreams. He wanted to have a farm, raise three kids, and be close to family. It was everything I ever wanted. Emotionally, he had put in the work and been to therapy. We disliked the same meats. He liked animals, including my two cats and my dog. He enjoyed reading and being outside. He could even sew. The more I looked, the more I was in awe of the person he was. Did they make men like this? I had found a diamond in the rough, and that diamond was interested in me. Life was working out. Love had found a way.

My mind warned me of people who appeared too perfect, but I could not find his flaw. Even the negatives he confessed were not red flags to me. I liked him. I liked him- a lot. I loved him- more than I had ever loved anyone before. Despite that twist in my stomach, I was determined to not lose this man.

The future seemed endless. He would proclaim the things that he wanted for us. 

Like habits in the home. “I will do the dishes if you do the laundry.” 

Wanting to be together more. “I wish you could move in with me already.”

Fun extravagant plans. “We need to plan a vacation!”

And when I complained about missing out on something, he would say, “We have all the time in the world.”

And he gave me truths so easily. “I have too much trust in you.” He admitted between his dramas. I felt our love burning slowly, and I did not need to rush myself. I learned early on that people are never as they seem and sometimes less is more. Still, some secrets bubbled to the surface. What was our relationship if I couldn't be trusting?

We went on weekend dates as we could. Unfortunately, we lived several hours away from each other. But neither of us minded the drive. “I drive a lot for work.” He had told me. And I did as well. Those weekend drives didn't compare, because he was my destination. We talked about the distance because it was a challenge, but he thought we were handling it well.

I met his family. Over Christmas, we went to our family parties. Everything went splendidly. We went to a local bar on New Year's Eve, befriended the bartender, and celebrated a new beginning. I sang karaoke. Later, he pulled me in for a slow dance. It was a dream. I felt so seen. I wanted nothing more than to be held in his arms till the end of time. For the first time, I was with someone who would love me like I wanted to be loved. He was gentle, decisive, adaptive, understanding, funny, and humble.

As we lay in bed that night, he whispered, “I really, really like you.” My heart twitched. Why not love? I sensed it was there when I shivered from the cold, and he cuddled me in close. Or when he told me his favorite things about me. I thought the beer must have made him lose the word. I convinced myself that his meaningful care was unique to me. I believed that I was so lucky.

The week after, phone calls, and even text messages were sporadic. I blamed it on going back to work and settling into old routines. I thought we would see each other soon, but even that fell through. A family emergency came up for him. There is always next weekend, I thought.

“Are we alright?” He had asked over the phone. Looking back, I wonder why he worried.

“We should plan a trip together.” Looking back, I wonder why he bothered.

The week after that, the messages were still inconsistent. The calls only happened when I made them. But we would see each other over the weekend, I was sure of it. We would make plans and everything would go back to normal. It would because I willed it to.

When the plans never happened, he ignored my messages about it.

“Bowling or movies?” I asked

“I am so tired this morning.” Was his reply

“So, what are we doing today?” I questioned, anxious to know when he would meet me.

“I’m going to hang out with my family soon.” Was his response. There was no mention of seeing me, no excuse, no planning, not even an apology.

“Are you avoiding me?” I hated to ask, but my gut told me something wasn't right. I had ignored it up to this point, but now the twisting of my insides had become too much.

“The drive is just so far. I feel guilty.” He admitted

In a game of confusing messages, my mouth began to taste foul. Messaging became a tiring way of communicating. But I needed answers so I called him. No more bullshit.

“What do you mean the drive is so far?” I wanted a direct answer, although my stomach was wrenched. I had to believe he sought a solution. I gave him a chance.

“It’s been hard balancing seeing family and seeing you on the weekends.” He repeated his earlier excuse.

“But this is not a new challenge. If you're busy, we can pause making plans.” I could understand the underlying problem, but we could compromise on something if he just talked to me.

“It’s just so far.” Why did he keep saying that? What did he really mean?

“Is the distance too much for you?” I prayed for a no.

“Yes.”

“...” I paused for an explanation.

“...” His silence was what I received.

I wanted to spiral out of control. What had I done? Had it all been a lie? Why was he so cold about it? Suddenly, the world stopped spinning, yet I could not curse his name. I had known all along. As much as I wanted him to be the one, wouldn't that person go to hell and back? Why fold here when the going was getting good? I had already prepared myself to fight any battle and conquer all villains. I sat in my room alone, knowing I was just another fool.

Above everything else, this one thought rattled in my head. “Oh, you’re going to break my heart, right?”