Synopsis
He asked me to marry him twelve times. Twelve times, I said yes without hesitation. And twelve times, he pulled back with the same excuse: “Not yet. Wait until I’m ready.”
It took the thirteenth proposal for the truth to finally sink in — he was never going to choose me the way I chose him. Loving him meant living in limbo, suspended between hope and disappointment. So I ended it. I told him we should stop hurting each other.
Eight years I waited. Eight years of being almost the one, almost loved enough, almost worth committing to. And now, when my heart has finally gone quiet, when I’ve finally learned how to let him go, he claims he’s ready.
But readiness means nothing when love is already gone.
