I cannot make sense of why I ever became his wife.
We were married not long ago. Id been convinced my husband was madly in love with me. There wouldnt have been a shadow of doubt about it, had it not been for something that happenednot even betrayal, but something far more peculiar and unsettling.
Looking back, I think the problem was that I cared too much. I adored him, forgave his every mistake, and loved him with all of my heart. Naturally, he got used to being treated that way; his confidence grew, and he began to think awfully highly of himself. I imagine he fancied that with a click of his fingers, any woman would fall at his feet. But among others, hes really nothing special Someone else wouldnt tolerate his faults, and certainly wouldnt trust him blindly.
Just before the wedding, he wanted some time alone, to go on holiday and prepare himself for married life. There wasnt much I could do about it, so I accepted his decision and let him go off on his trip.
He later told me that hed decided to escape civilisation and be somewhere without the internet or a mobile phone. He travelled alone to the Lake District, seeking peace and the beauty of nature. Meanwhile, I stayed behind, missing him desperately. Every passing minute I longed for his return; my heart ached for him.
A week later, he came home. It was the happiest day I can remember. I welcomed him with every bit of warmth and affection I could muster. I cooked his favourite meals and tried to make him feel special.
But the next day, things began to get strange. He started rushing into the hallway or spare room more than usual. Then he began leaving the house several times a day, always with some flimsy excuse. One afternoon, while I was popping out to the shop, I found a letter in the postbox. It looked perfectly ordinary. Addressed to me, from him, and sent during his time away. But what I read inside completely shook me. Hed written:
Hello. I cant go on deceiving you. Youre not the right person for me, and I dont want to spend my life with you. There wont be a wedding. Forgive me, but dont look for me or call. I wont be coming back.
So brief, so blunt, and so cruel.
It dawned on me then that all those hurried trips had been to check the post. Silently, I destroyed the letter, never mentioning it to him, never allowing him to sense that anything was wrong. But how can I spend my life with a man who doesnt want me? Why did he marry me and pretend that everything was fine?
