red
I have loved B for the past year. For me, a year is a long time to like somebody – to have your heart balloon every time he texts you, to secretly smile every time he asks a favour, to laugh at all his bad jokes. A year is a long time to love his scruffy beard, to love the way his forehead crinkles when he’s stressed, to love the way his presence makes you feel safe. In my mind I measured B up to other guys, to see if there was someone out there who was better for me. But none of them ever compared to him. He was perfect. And in that entire year I couldn’t find one flaw, no matter how hard I tried.
But then one morning this week, I woke up – and I didn’t love B anymore. (So I guess you can’t really call it love to begin with, can you?) His perfection had suddenly melted away. His steadfast beliefs I had so admired now seemed to be self-conscious, and his confidence seemed somewhat self-absorbed. In that one morning of clarity, I soon became aware of all his flaws. I no longer believe that he is perfect, nor that he is perfect for me.
I still care for him, but I no longer love him. By no means were we superficial - we shared our hopes, dreams, ambitions, fears. So what scares me is that I don’t know how this sudden change of heart happened. Falling out of love shouldn’t be that easy.
What if one day, in the future, I wake up one morning in bed with my future husband, only to find that I do not love him anymore?
-h
