"Let her go, it's easy as breathing once you figure out how to do it." Or at least that's what he told me. I didn't believe him. It's was three days after she left me and I don't think I had stopped crying since then. He made me shower and eat something "baby steps." He said. So I did
We watched her favorite movie a month later. He held me while I ugly-cried after. But the worst parts were the little things. I kept running into things she'd left behind. Things she deemed unworthy of her new life. The scissors littering every single drawer and cabinet in the house, her box of duplicate movie posters. I threw them all out, every single one. Well, I saved one pair to cut her posters up with. I thought it was fitting, and later on delightfully ironic.
I don't know how I could have did it without him there. He told me he'd be there as long as I needed him. And I needed him a lot. There were more than a few late night phone calls. And countless impromptu midnight visits to his place I made because I just couldn't be in that apartment. Three months after she and I split the visits to his place became less desperate, and more about two friends hanging out.
After six months I had the self respect and wherewithal to mail the ring she proposed with to her mother's house. I couldn't find her address. But I can't say I looked very hard. And to celebrate we went to the restaurant where she asked me to marry her, because I was sure I could do it. I couldn't. "That's ok," he said soothingly as I cried on the sidewalk outside. "We'll try again on another day." It took me more tries than I'd like to admit, thirteen, to get through a dinner in that restaurant.
I saw her for the first time eight months after she left me. I only cried for three days so I'm counting that as a win. He saw her and acted when I couldn't. I was stuck starring at her hand, locked tight in the grip of some blonde who was wearing too much make up and too few clothes. He grabbed my hand and pulled me out to his car and spent forty-five minutes comforting me, before taking me back to his place for the weekend so I didn't have to be alone.
After a year he asked me out on a date. I tried to tell him no at first, to tell him that he deserved better. I was broken and heartsick. But then he pointed something out to me; I hadn't cried over Jade in months, not since the first time I saw her after the break up. But I still wasn't convinced.
But he wouldn't take no for an answer. He wore me down, and truth be told, I think I wanted him to. I don't truly know what possessed me to say yes to him that day, but it was one of the best decisions of my life. Our first date was a picnic with all my favorite foods. I thought that it might get awkward. But it didn't. Conversation flowed as well as the wine he brought.
A week after he asked if I'd like to go out on another date. I couldn't help the blush that stained my cheeks. He quickly went from a friend from high school to someone I couldn't live my life without. He let me take a slow, he knew that I wasn't ready to jump into another relationship. Six months later we were officially a couple. A year after that we welcomed our first child into the world. I named her grace, because I like to call her father my saving grace.
Tomorrow we're getting married. He proposed to me on my favorite beach, the sun sinking into horizon behind him was the perfect backdrop. I was two months pregnant, though we didn't know at the time, with our second child. A son we named after him. I couldn't imagine my life any other way and that's why tomorrow I'll become Victoria Harris with absolutely no regrets. I will always be thankful to Jade for inadvertently bringing us together.