In a few days my first love is marrying a man who isn’t me. I wished her a wonderful time and told her to remind her soon-to-be-husband how lucky he is.
This doesn’t mean I’m free of regret. I met my ex in high school and we dated ten years. Life, as it often does, “happened” and we slowly grew apart, but against the odds remained friends.
We almost tied the knot in high school—in a marriage and family class, for credit only. We had a chance to play house and raise a ten-pound bag of flour. I got sick and changed schools to avoid seeing a classmate who hurt me emotionally and physically. He’s got a family of his own now—funny how the universe works.
I used to watch from the window as my ex walked to the bus stop, wishing I were there beside her. When I think today about a life for us that never happened, a tremendous sorrow fills my soul. Then I look again, through a different window. I’m happy she’s found love, because she has loved me.