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Almost seven months after that fateful night in early July, the decision was taken out of my hands. It destroyed me in ways that I will never be able to explain to anyone.
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Life doesn’t come with convenient signposts letting us know which is the path to happiness and which is the path to misery, so we’re stuck taking blind gambles. And we frequently end up with regrets that we carry to our graves.
Sometimes we have chances to change mistaken choices we’ve made. But all along the way, we’re guessing and hoping, no matter how much thinking and reasoning we bring to bear on our choices.
With one guy, she feels the magical connection that most of us want to feel and that a few of us have felt in a very real way. What’s more, she feels that he needs her far more than she needs him.
He’s apparently a great guy who will be a good father and husband — and he’s more financially stable — but the things she likes about him are mostly in her head, not her heart.
I told her which choice made sense to me — based on what she was saying — but I told her whether she agreed or not, she had to make a choice. (I gave her my card and asked her to let me know what she did.) After she walked away, all I was left with was to ponder my own history — and my own devastating loss.
I watched the love I wanted and needed get washed away because of my indecision.
Because of the way I was raised, I have a very difficult time not giving other people what they want, emotionally, even when it’s not right for me. Even though I knew I loved the first woman, I felt that I must be doing something wrong.
What’s worse is that she begged me to change my mind.
I thought about this Saturday because of a woman I met and talked with.
She’s consumed with trying to make a decision that will affect the rest of her life.
In the spring and early summer of 2008, the first woman and I had talked a lot of marriage.