For two weeks Sarah distanced herself, especially the last five days. She wasn't even enthused about me coming to her house to sit and watch TV together, flipping between Dancing with the Stars and House like we did every Monday night. She only texted me if I initiated a conversation; our texting dropped from more than fifty a day, to maybe five. Tonight I called her on the way home from my third ten hour shift at work.
"Sarah, I feel that you have been avoiding me for the past few days," I said.
She hesitated, "Babe, I think it will be better if we talk about this tomorrow after you get off work and go to the gym. Then you can come to my house and we can talk. I'll even let you take a shower before we do."
"Why can't we talk about it right now?" I insisted.
"Because I don't want to."
This time I hesitated. "Can you even give me a hint as to what it is about? Anything? Anything at all?"
Silence.
"It is about what we talked about on the phone two days ago," she finally revealed.
"What? That you were having doubts about us getting married?"
"Yes."
I felt as though someone had suddenly put iron football pads on my shoulders. "Sarah, we cannot just ignore this and talk about it tomorrow! We need to talk about this."
"Well Eric, I don't want to talk about this over the phone and I think we should talk about it tomorrow after you get off of work. But, if you want, you can come over now and we can talk."
I was twenty minutes from my house, and forty minutes from hers. "Fine. We will talk tomorrow. I have to go. Good night."
"Good night," she said. I tapped the bluetooth device in my ear. The little beep sounded so final.
After about thirty seconds, I couldn't bear the iron pads any longer. I called her back.
"Sarah, I cannot just leave it like that. We need to talk. Can I still come over?"
"Yes," she replied.
"Ok, I'll be there soon." I tapped the bluetooth again, this time with hope.
I flipped a u-turn, and drove as fast as I could without risking getting pulled over.
Thoughts of rage, doubt, remorse, anger, grief, and hope slowly paced the hallway of my mind. I needed help. I began to pray aloud.
"Heavenly Father, please help me. Please bless me with understanding, with patience, with hope, and with peace." I repeated the prayer over and over and over again. I decided to call my parents and ask for their advice. They told me to listen, to not be offended, to not be defensive, and to pull over to pray sincerely. I pulled into her parking lot and prayed again.
I imagined the walk to her door would be a long one, but it came quickly. I knocked, not wanting to acknowledge the doubt I felt. With my hands in my pockets, I rocked back and forth from heel to toe. The light turned on, my heart sped up. She opened the door. This time, she didn't rush forward to hug and kiss me, she just stepped back and invited me in.
We sat down on her couch.
She started. "I want you to know that the reason I didn't want to talk about this until tomorrow is because I didn't want you to have to go to work the next day."
"Ok, so what is going on?" I replied.
"For two weeks I have been struggling with doubts about our marriage; and after a lot of thought, a lot of prayer, and a blessing from my dad... I can't marry you."
I just looked at her, my eyes slowly unfocused, then refocused on her right leg. She was wearing her favorite pair of jeans with the holes in the knees. All I could do was watch the blue denim gently fade into white strings, and then her bare knee.
"Why?" I asked.
"I don't know, and that is the hardest part about it."
Immediately I flattened my feet on the floor and connected my elbows to my knees, burying my head into my hands. I could not understand. I felt empty. No emotion. Nothing. I had to feel something. The girl I was planning on spending the rest of my life and eternity just told me she could not marry me, and she didn't know why. I didn't feel anything.
"I don't understand this." I tried to crack my voice, make it sound faint, or hurt. "Why did all of this happen?" I looked at her, she was using her left hand to support her head on the back of the couch. A slighty lighter band of skin replaced the band of gold. "When did you take off your ring?"
"This morning, to give it back to you. I am sorry I don't have any answers. All I can say is that I can't marry you."
Again, I did not know what to do. Grief could fit. I hugged her and began to cry. She rocked back and forth for I'm not sure how long. She scratched my back, I knew it would be for the last time. It did not make sense for me to hug her any longer, so I let go. We sat in silence for a moment.
"I need to go." I dashed to the door. She followed.
She picked up a bag full of things: her ring, some books, my pictures, and a music hard drive. The next emotion I could think of was anger. "Keep it, I don't want it."
"Eric!" she said firmly, "Take it. Your mom's camera is in here too."
I grabbed it and bolted through the door. She followed.
I swung around, the momentum of the bag made my arm swing out. "Why is this happening?! I just don't get it. One minute we are engaged, then next we aren't. I just don't understand." Anger didn't fit. I dropped the bag and hugged her again. And again, grief wasn't the right emotion. I pushed her away, said goodbye, and drove away. This time she didn't follow.
The weight was lifted. I felt the iron football pads being tossed aside. Above all things, out of all the emotions I could feel, I felt relief; and it made sense. She felt we weren't supposed to be together, and so did I. Even if I didn't want to acknowledge it for the past two weeks, I knew it. It didn't make sense to just leave such a wonderful relationship in such a negative manner. I called her again as I drove home.
"Sarah, I will be honest with you. I love you. For the past two weeks, I felt the same way, having my doubts. I didn't understand them, so I ignored them. I want you to know that I don't blame you for it ending like this, and I know you don't blame me. We just lost the connection. The more and more I think, the more and more it makes sense."
"That is how I feel about it too," she responded.
"I hope this does not sound cruel: I miss you already, and I will miss you for awhile I am sure. I wish the best of luck to you. Please don't be offended if I don't talk with you again."
"It's ok. I understand."
I stuttered to say goodbye, trying not to say the usual "alright love, talk to you later." It came out odd, but that was the end of the call.
I drove home, put the bag on the table, and went upstairs to tell my parents. We talked for about a half hour I think. My mom wasn't surprised, she too could sense something was wrong for the past two weeks. Nevertheless, she still cried. She could feel sadness. She could show it. Throughout our conversation, I would tear up a little, but then say to myself, Sarah knew it, you knew it, and your mom knew it. So why be upset about it? And I stopped.
They went upstairs to their bedroom. I drifted into the computer room, plopped down on my chair, and began to type an explanation on facebook of what happened. Not because it is "only official if it's on facebook," but because it makes it less awkward for people to know. Rather than coming up and asking either of us how the wedding is going and then to hear that it is off--only to be left in an awkward, "Oh... Sorry to hear about that"--people will just know and be done with it.
I closed my computer, and sat. I just sat. I thought about her, I could feel the tears blaze a trail on my flushed cheeks. I began to sob. I could hardly manage to breathe and walk at the same time. I dove into the couch, and continued to gasp. I thought to myself, It is over. It is done. There is no need to act this way. And then I stopped. I stood up. I went to bed. It was the best night of sleep I had had in days.
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