I felt like everything had fallen in its correct place.
My man and I were truly happy again.
Going on vacation was the remedy we needed to ward off the threat of familiarity that had begun snuff out the spark of our 4-year old relationship.
We were once again infatuated with each other, laughing and splashing about in the warm turquoise waters of the Mauritian coast, and making love like it was the first time being engrossed in each other’s bodies.
We even decided that Mauritius would be the perfect destination for our walk down the aisle somebody soon.
I wished he would’ve proposed, but I guess men need time to get ready.
We couldn’t decide on the ideal name for a little girl and boy. We eventually settled on leaving the baby name decision for later.
I noticed that conversation send shivers down his spine.
I guess he finds the possibility of being a dad quite daunting.
Our career vision board were quite different to what I had imagined, with him set on building his career here in Johannesburg, while I wanted to spread my creative wings to other parts of the world.
I had been ruminating over how best we could live our lives while being together when we returned from our trip.
Sure, we had a few differences, but these could be worked out.
I mean… I took on a job that was stable enough to keep me in Johannesburg instead of accepting my dream job where I could’ve lived in London for a couple of months.
“Baby, I think we should break up,” he said, his voice cracking as it broke free from his larynx as we were having breakfast on that Monday morning.
“What?” I replied.
“I can’t do this. I’m sorry”
I stared at him for a while, my eyes as vacant as an abandoned house, before putting my empty cereal bowl in the sink and getting my laptop bag.
“I need to get to work. Excuse me.”
I walked out of our apartment with what felt like a concussion.
*image from Pexels.