Diary of a woman
Dear Diary,
I’m back, but I feel shattered. I keep asking myself the same question: Why didn’t he fight for me the way I fought for him?
It’s been six months since I lost the last piece of my heart. Let’s pick up where we left off.
Everything was going well, and I had returned to him, just like any young girl in love would. This time, his family was part of the picture. Yes, I met his family, and I felt like they belonged to me the moment I met them.
Here’s what happened during those days. When his family asked him to meet other girls for marriage, he did so without considering how I would feel or if he could wait for me. Why couldn’t he tell his parents? He’s 30 years old; he should be making his own decisions, not his family. Shouldn’t he think that way?
But I guess not everyone is as dedicated as you are to them. I helped him choose clothes for his date with another girl, among other things. Was I crazy? Or was I just fooling myself into thinking he deserved it all?
That girl was a doctor, and I remember him saying he liked her, but his family wouldn’t accept her career because they wanted someone who could work mainly from home.
This gave me insight into his mind. His sister and brother-in-law sat him down to make a plan. His voice still echoes in my mind. He believed our union would benefit his family in many ways. Why was I loved then? Just because I could do things on my own or because I came from a business family? I’ll never understand. But love is blind, they say. I couldn’t think clearly at that time.
This made me eager to meet his family. Everything went well. Since my family wasn’t looking for a groom for me, it was an easy lineup of events. My family didn’t know what was going on in my mind. However, silence can be the biggest weapon, they say. Or at least, it became one in my case. His family assumed I wasn’t making any effort to communicate this union to my family.
How is that possible when something from six months ago is still present? It takes time for them to accept it again. Everything takes time. And matters like this can only be healed through time.
We resorted to a mediator who could talk to my father and streamline the process. However, at the last moment, he refused. I was ready to do whatever was required, including talking to his sister’s friends, telling them my story, and listening to them as if I were a puppet. Was that how I was supposed to act? Or was I just a fool, accepting anything that came my way?
I never got the time, consideration, or love I wanted from him, right from the beginning. Yes, we fought more than usual, but I went with the flow because that’s what you do when you love someone unconditionally. After a fight, everything was back to normal within ten minutes. Since it was pure love, I couldn’t see his suffering.
Yes, I needed the basic necessities every woman needs, but since I was passionately in love, I wasn’t behaving normally. I constantly thought about his well-being and participated in activities where he wanted to achieve something in life because it was my goal too. From helping him carry out his ideas, encouraging him to succeed, and having faith in anything he did or would accomplish.
I was always there for him, like a shadow. I was rock-steady in every conflict of his life. I never doubted that he loved me. But he never loved me as much as I loved him, which is fine because there’s always one person who loves more than the other. However, that person can’t row the boat alone; they need two extra hands to reach the destination quickly. Throughout the journey, I was yearning for his support.
His family soon became anxious about the future. Would I be able to convince my family? But were they so self-centered that they didn’t understand that if I did that, I would end up worse off? They didn’t think the same way I did, so I had a slow-moving plan in hopes that they would eventually come around since my family couldn’t show me the right alliance until then. But I suppose no one is patient. Why wasn’t there any patience? And in the midst of this chaos, a proposal came to him, which he liked, I suppose.
Was the proposal tempting to him just because the lady went to a university in London? He became impatient, which made me impatient to convince my family. Talking to him that day made me feel uneasy. Without considering the repercussions I might face, I gave his father my father’s phone number.
I believe that when people don’t plan ahead and just want to end the matter by talking about it, they lose. You lose because you didn’t consider the pros and cons. Since I had run out of options and couldn’t bear to watch him suffer, I forwarded my father’s phone number. But even though we knew what would happen, I was still okay with it. I was ordered to stay at home and not go to work.
I was devastated when my family rejected my request to marry him. They disapproved of love marriages, which was bound to happen. No love marriage gets approved in a single day. There’s a lot of drama and fighting involved. Moreover, I had planned for the worst and was certain it would occur. The treatment I received from his family was one of the things that hurt me the most. All these things were disturbing. Nobody even bothered to ask about my well-being. No one advised me not to be alarmed. No one sympathized with me. Nothing was done; the wound was just left open.
They only assumed that I had given up and was defenseless. But did they even know what happened, or were they just making up a story? Then I realized that only blood relationships count. Once my family said no, all the affection and concern vanished into thin air. Forget about his family; what upset me the most was his behavior. He had the nerve to ask me if we should even communicate like this.
Was he completely insane when he texted me this? Had he gone mad? He broke all ties with me because we couldn’t marry. Seriously? How can people be so callous, and how did he make up his mind in just one day? I was barred from doing anything. He knew it. He knew I was crying every second of my life. How could he? He just gave up on someone who devoted her heart and soul to him.
Was he such a coward?
He had the nerve to say that his family wants him to move on and find the right alliance. He conveniently forgot the girl who sacrificed so much for him. He didn’t have the patience to at least wait for things to calm down. He betrayed my affection for him. A traitor! But you know what I did—I told him to go out with other girls because I didn’t want him or his family to suffer. I simply sent them all my best wishes.
The same question applies here: why didn’t he stand up for me? Wasn’t he 30 years old and capable of making his own decisions? When he couldn’t go against his family’s decisions for him, how could he expect me to do something like this? I remained calm and indicated it was alright for him to move on with his life while still wishing him luck in both his personal and professional endeavors. I asked him to fulfill his obligation to his family. That was a naive statement on my part. I acted foolishly when I kept my anguish to myself. Not a single day has passed since then that I haven’t cried, not a single second that I haven’t been able to take my mind off the things he said to me and how he betrayed me.
It taught me how egotistical one might be and that I was no longer needed. He betrayed me in the same way he betrayed his previous five-year relationship. Accepting his family’s advice and just refusing to fight. How can you ask someone else to do something when you lack the courage to defend yourself? The battle is never seen or heard but is always reported naively. It is the warrior who is only aware of his experiences. You can’t ask someone for assurance of the future when you don’t know what the future looks like for yourself, let alone the future, because nobody anticipated that we would stop talking, but we did. That is what difficult situations teach you.
Your happiness is entirely up to you. There is no one else responsible for it. That’s all I can write today. I still have a lot to say, but my heart is heavy right now, making it difficult for me to write or think clearly. But dear diary, it’s been four days since I haven’t talked to him bravely, not even sent a message.
It’s just hurting my suffering because of the words he said to me; they’re still there in my head, hurting me. I won’t let my agony and suffering make me weak; I’m getting stronger every day. Whatever life throws at me, I’ll get up again, and this time, instead of being betrayed repeatedly, I’ll be happy. It’s over now. I’ll accept this as my fate.
