He was my sweetheart all through high school. Not much of a reader, but a hopeless romantic, always leaving notes and presents in my locker. We had very different plans for life after high school; he was enlisting and I was going to college. He had your typical fantasy: a house with a white picket fence, and he would come home to dinner on the table and children there to greet him. I wanted to chain myself to trees in the rain-forests of Brazil. It was easy to put these things away when we were in high school; I mean, why worry about what’s happening in 4 years when we have now and we love each other?
The day before I was set to move into my dorm, he came to my house and gave me this book. I was speechless as I opened it, wondering what he meant by it. His chicken-scratch handwriting on the inside cover: “We’re going to get married and have babies. You are my one and only.”
I knew at that moment that we could not be together. What was real had been made into a fantasy by time and false hope.
When I looked up from the book, he was on one knee, with a ring (it was really just a piece of costume jewelry) in his hand.
He took the book with him when he stormed out my house. We haven’t spoken since.
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Found via Coudal Partners