“ WHAT!” she almost screamed it, the look on her face was of shock and anger. Her brow furrowed together, her nose was wrinkled and all I wanted was for her to say something more.

“I want you to marry me, and I mean actually marry me. Not me freaking out and leaving you,” I have never been so sure of anything in life. “I made the biggest mistake that day, and all I want now is to see you in that dress. To walk down that aisle, to stand there and do whatever it is I have to do to make you my wife.”

She has that look like she’s about to kill me, and I’m pretty sure she would do it. So I do the only thing that I know to do, I pout my lips and give her those puppy dog eyes she hates. Then I pray to god that she says something, wanting to hear the answer I want and knowing what it really would be. She’s far too quiet, her eyes are empty, and I fear that I might have just lost her.

“Go to hell,” those words that cut so deep. “I wanted to be your wife, I wanted to wear that dress and do the whole wedding thing. I walked down that aisle and half way down I was stopped by my fiancés best man, who by the way was the worst best man ever. I had my heart shredded in front of my family and friends because you got scared.”

The blade is burning hot and twisted slowly with each word, and oddly enough I can’t cry. I knew she would say no, but to hear her saying how bad I hurt her was a slow, torturous way to die. If she didn’t want this, what the fuck did I expect?

“ I love you and I promise that one day we will be married, but I can’t… not now and maybe not for a long time.” I had to look at her, to make sure that she had said it, and it wasn’t just me imagining it. I never understood why she would look at me like that; I could see everything that she was feeling, everything that she was thinking.