I met mine when I was 18, he was 32. The first person who ever came into my life and showed me any sort of kindness.
I fell head over heels in love with him. He wanted to get married, he wanted to give me the world. I pushed him away because I didn’t feel worthy of someone like him. I moved over him for months and he begged me back. I fell pregnant and miscarried, he pushed me away so I stayed well away. We ended up back together, pregnant again. It was then that he told me he had a child on the way with someone else. I was so gutted.
I couldn’t get past it. So I pushed him away, fully expecting that given time, we would figure it out. Because there’s no way we weren’t meant to be, he would lay in bed and tell me that we were like bees and honey, he would never be without me.
Sad to say, I haven’t seen him in 9 years. We spoke every day for about 5 of those.
We’ve barely spoken since I told him I’d got married. He was really hurt by it. I told him I needed to cease contact for my marriage to work, he said that he thought it would be him I married, and he was the most hurt he’s ever been, but he understands that if he hadn’t of let me get away then I would have been his and I’ve not heard from him since.
I know that he would have never been the husband that I have. But I really, really loved him.