What's your all time high, your good as it gets
Your hands down best ever make up sex
What's your guilty pleasure, your old go-to
If you asked me, mine would be you
What's your worst hangover, your best night yet
Your 90 proof, your Marlboro Red
The best damn thing you lucked into
Well that's easy, girl
Mine would be you
Mine would be you
Sun keeps shining
Back roads flying
Singing like crazy fools
Making up our own words
Laughing til it hurts
Baby if I had to choose
My best day ever, my finest hour
My wildest dream come true
Mine would be you
What's your double dare, your go-all-in
The craziest thing you ever did
Plain as your name in this tattoo
Look on my arm
Mine would be you
What's the greatest chapter in your book
Are there pages where it hurts to look
What's the one regret you can't work through
You got it baby
Mine would be you
Girl can you tell me the one thing you'd rather die than lose
Cause mine would be you
~Blake Shelton, Mine Would Be You
August 2011
EPOV
It has been two months since I left Bella. I've learned to live like someone half alive, walking around like a ghost in limbo between the real world and the afterlife. I'm happy at times; I enjoy my sister and Jasper, work is still good. Then something reminds me of what I've done, and I wind up curled in the fetal position in bed.
When I was dating Tanya, I was young and cocky, a self-confident asshole. I knew that she and I were compatible because she was after someone who made a decent living and could spoil her. I thought that was what I wanted, to show off my early success with a trophy girlfriend. In the beginning, we went out all the time. She was gorgeous on my arm, and guys were jealous of me. We made a point of being part of the party scene, hitting up clubs and expensive dinners. I saw nothing wrong with giving Tanya one of my credit cards and letting her have a spa day and buy a dress and jewelry, if the end result was showing her off and then having dirty sex in the back of the limo on the way home.
I was shallow, so I didn't care that she was too.
After a few months of this, I had to put some actual effort into my job. I had to work to earn the money to pay for her shopping sprees. Tanya was livid that I put her second, regardless of the reason why. To me, it was logical to work late a few times to earn better clients and more money. To her, it was a snub.
She started off making subtle remarks about how I was working all the time. Then she moved into suggesting how I should dress, making it sound like I wasn't attractive unless I changed it up. When I let her dress me, she told me I was lucky to have her, because nobody else would put up with me. Then she would tell me I was slacking in the bedroom, complaining that she wasn't satisfied.
When she screamed at me for visiting my sister, choosing Alice over her, I felt guilty for failing my girlfriend. I thought she was right. And I believed every venomous thing she spewed from then on.
I was a robot, working to avoid my shrew of a girlfriend, believing I was a loser who didn't deserve her anyway. Until the day I came home from work and caught her cheating on me. She was not quiet during sex, ever. So to open my apartment door and hear those sounds, I knew what was going on. I wasn't confused, it didn't take me any time to figure out what was happening. I knew immediately that she was having sex with someone else.
Still, to see her naked body pushed over the kitchen table, her ample boobs squashed to the wood and some guy pulling her hair as he slammed into her, was a shock.
And then I got over that shock, and the next thing I knew, I had the guy in a headlock and was dragging him to the door, roughly shoving him out and slamming it behind him. When I turned around, naked Tanya was shrieking at me, calling me names and flailing her arms. I suddenly couldn't remember why I ever found her attractive as I looked at her, while she continued blaming me for her cheating.
I told her to gather the clothing on the floor and to get the hell out. I told her I never wanted to see her face again, and she continued to shriek as I closed my bedroom door and locked it, stripping and heading into the shower.
I never saw her again, and that was a relief.
It took months to get back to myself, and I was never quite the same person. I was over acting like a rich, spoiled snob. I was over dating shallow girls and letting them tell me how awful I was. In the end, I was better off to be rid of her. I don't feel the same now, without my wife.
She brought so much happiness to my life. A strange coincidence, having the nerve to say hello to a stranger and have her interested in me in return. Our relationship moved so fast, and I always thought it was fate. I thought we were meant to be together, and that we were a perfect match. I planned on working on our marriage for the rest of our lives, and I certainly never saw myself giving up.
But Alice said Bella was happy, and that brought up old insecurities about myself. I'm trying to remember the Edward I was when I first met Bella. I was happy, generous, loving.
But I wasn't confident. I realize now that I still have not found that piece of myself. The last time I thought I was confident, I was actually cocky and self-important. Then I was afraid of letting Bella down, so I was eager to please, which can be okay, just not to the level I was at. Scared of her leaving if I wasn't good enough, and instead running because I was afraid I wasn't good enough.
And to hear how much better she is, how healthy she looks without me in the picture? I have to cut the strings that tie us together, to set her free instead of binding her to me. Ugh, how terrified I am of what that will do to me. The strings are interwoven; cut one and they all unravel, leaving me wounded and alone. The thought has another panic attack threatening, and I take deep, ragged breaths. The pain crushes me, and I squeeze my legs to my chest, my arms wrapped tightly around my knees.
I've made my decision. If I file for separation, not divorce, I can give Bella the chance to make her own decision.
It doesn't hurt any less.
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