As I packed my belongings, I relived our entire story. Back when we first met, everything was rainbows and roses. I remember the feeling of heat rising in my body when I felt his lips grazed my neck. I remember the giddy school girl feeling at every text from him that popped up on my phone. Then the warmth and pride I felt when he told me that I was his safe place, and he could come home to me for the rest of his life. I had created a safe space for him to lay his head. We had our bumps along the way, but he always assured me that he was here for me, and only me. He insisted for months that he wanted to marry me and would propose next year. Now this.

As I was lost in my thoughts, I realized he was staring at me.

"What?" I snapped.

"Nothing, I... I just wish we could... we could talk about this..." he stammered.

"Okay, talk," I challenged, looking him directly in the eye.

He immediately looked away, his gaze settling on my suitcase.

"I just don't want you to go," he says, reaching for my hand.

I recoil at the gesture, taking a step back.

He strides forward, and I stride backward, until my back is against the far wall. He takes advantage of the opportunity, and takes my face in his hands. I don't look at him, and the touch that once felt like home only felt like a distant, blurry memory.

I finally look up at him and see he has tears running from his eyes.

"If you just give me one more chance, I swear I will make it up to you. I'll prove to you I want only you. Please, you're my everything," he begged.

It was all the right words, they were just too late. I had given him multiple chances over the years, even after he broke our first engagement a month before our wedding. His words should have made me reconsider but they didn't. They were hollow, meaningless, and desperate.

He should have thought of that before he started texting and meeting up with those other women.

"If you really wanted to be together, you wouldn't have met with those other women. If you really trusted that I loved you then you would have talked to me about what was missing for you in our relationship, instead of finding another outlet to plug your cord into. I love you, but this won't work without trust."

He stared at me with no response. He backed up to let me pass. I grabbed a few bags, half packed with various clothing items and toiletries. I had to get out while I still had my resolve.

"I'll send my brother to pick up the rest of my things tomorrow. I wish you no ill will, but I'm leaving. And I'm not coming back."

I turn on my heel and practically run to get out of the front door. I'm grateful for the cool fall breeze, and take a whiff of fresh air. It was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. I was leaving the future I planned with him in the past--I chose me. Now what I felt was a surprising sense of relief, and a strong hope for the future.