I Was Ready to Give You Everything but You Didn’t Stop Proving That You Don’t Deserve It

I wanted to marry you.

I thought we met by divine intervention because of how many things had to line up correctly for us to meet. And you seemed like such a great guy that it was easy for me to fall for you and be ready to give you everything.

Looking back, there were so many little things that I should have seen for the red flags they were that you didn’t deserve my everything.

First of all, there were the stories.

It didn’t matter what somebody else shared about their own life; you always had something to top it. Sometimes it was about a friend, but usually, it was something that happened to you. You had to steal the spotlight from whoever was talking and make sure everybody else knew that you had suffered more or done better than them.

You even had to ruin perfectly good stories, like the time I answered your 3 am phone call in my sleep. It was a 30-second call that I found on my phone the next morning, and the story was entirely funny all on its own, but then you had to go on to say that you had called back later and we had spoken for 2 minutes while I slept.

It took me 10 seconds to check my phone record and spot the lie. It was far from the first time you had pointlessly exaggerated something that had happened, but it was the first time that I remember being genuinely confused as to why you had done it. From that point on, I was suspicious of everything you said and kept finding more exaggerations and straight-up lies.

There was also your obsession with making money. It was the most important thing to you, and it should have been clear to me that it mattered more to you than anything else. And you always had a half-baked idea that you dragged me into to make more money. Sometimes, it did work, and we came out on top, but often it didn’t, and I ended up putting hours of work into a failed idea.

How often did you stay up all night to work on something that was sure to make us “millions” of dollars? And how often did you drag me to the 24-hour coffee shop after I’d spent all day working my regular job so we could work on the website that you wanted to set up to rake in said cash?

What you had created was garbage, and I spent hours perfecting it and making it look amazing, and all for nothing.

But the biggest red flag that was stupid of me not to send me running to the hills was when you proposed.

You broke up with me; then I foolishly let you talk me into taking you back. But I wanted things to be different. I tried to make things slow and build our relationship from the ground up.

I laid out my three demands for a proposal: you had to wait until Christmas (the near break-up happened around July 4th), you had to ask my dad first, and you had to do it privately.

Two weeks later, you presented me with a ring and asked me to marry you. At that point, this exact train of thoughts went through my head: it’s not Christmas, and there’s no way he asked my dad, but why not?

So I said “sure.”

There was no resounding, excited “YES!” nor were their tears of joy or jumping up and down. Just “Sure.” Like you had asked me if I wanted another serving of potatoes.

Our short engagement may have lasted just longer than our brief relationship, but I had never felt so free as the day I decided to break up with you.

It took longer than I care to admit for me to realize how miserable I was with you, and how much of myself I had already given up. But once I saw what needed to be done, the realization that you didn’t deserve my love was more than enough to inspire me to take that step and end it.

And after I ended things, you continued to prove that you never deserved me and showed me clearly that I had made the right choice by finishing things.

Not once did I regret my decision to break up with you. I mourned the time I wasted on you but never-ending things.

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About the Author: Originally from Michigan, Melody now enjoys working as a freelance writer from her home in Nicaragua, which she shares with her amazing husband and their crazy cat that was raised on goat’s milk from the time her mother abandoned her at just ten days old. They’re excited to be expecting their first baby, who they thought was a girl, were told was a boy, and then was told was a girl. She also recently finished her first novel and is working on making a cat coloring book.

Melody Cary

Originally from Michigan, Melody now enjoys working as a freelance writer from her home in Nicaragua, which she shares with her amazing husband and their crazy cat that was raised on goat’s milk from the time her mother abandoned her at just ten days old. They’re excited to be expecting their first baby, who they thought was a girl, were told was a boy, and then was told was a girl. She also recently finished her first novel and is working on making a cat coloring book.

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