If Nick and I had broken up more than a year ago, why was I crying as if it had only really happened now? At one point, I had to pull off the road, cut the motor, and hug the wheel so I could sob without worrying about crashing into anyone.
I cried for what we had been; I cried for what we could have been; I cried for his sick mother and his baby sister… I cried for him, for disappointing him, for breaking his heart, for getting him to love me and then showing him love didn’t exist, at least not without pain, and that pain had now scarred him for life.
I cried for Noah, the Noah I had been when I was with him. That Noah full of life, the Noah who, despite her inner demons, had known how to love with all her heart. I had loved him more than anybody, and that was something to grieve, too. When you meet the person you want to spend the rest of your life with, there’s no going back. Lots of people never learn what that feels like. I knew that Nick was the love of my life, the man I wanted to be the father of my children, the man I wanted by my side through good and bad, in sickness and in health, till death did us part.
Nick was the one; he was my other half, and now I’d have to learn to live without him.
