I don’t think I have ever felt my heart shatter- but here there I was, standing in front of you. My eyes were full of tears and I was sure without a doubt- this is it. Your face was solemn, blank. I don’t think I will ever understand what was going through your mind in that moment. Maybe you were regretting your choices, maybe you weren’t. The only thing I knew for sure- was the pain in my heart. I’ve accepted what happened- I’m not upset, I’m not hurt anymore. But I will never forget that day.

            March 21st, our anniversary. I was making dinner- lasagna I believe, you just came home from work, your boots stomping up the stairs into the kitchen. You kissed me on the head, then asked how my day was. “A day,” I responded.

            You put your jacket and stuff on the dinner table and sat down. I just pulled out the lasagna and sat it on the stove. “What was wrong about it?” you asked. I shrugged in response. The only positive thing about my day was my lunch.

            I turned to face you, but you weren’t staring at me,  instead you were staring at your phone. I remember that feeling- dread. I knew you weren’t paying attention to me- just on what was going on in that phone of yours.

            “Babe?” I called out. You looked up. I remember the look on your face- annoyed. You wanted me to stop talking- I know you did. So, with a sigh, I shook my head and grabbed the pan with the food and walked back over to the table.

            Wish I could’ve changed what happened right here. To grab my arm and tell her No! but, I can’t. I placed the food on the table- the pan touching your arm. You flinched and threw your hand back. I jumped- dropping the pan of lasagna, it spilt everywhere. “What- what was that?” you yelled. I stuttered over my words, “I- it was an accident I am so sorry...”

            You threw your phone on the counter and slapped me on the face. I held my cheek- in shock. I looked for, any ounce of regret in your eyes- but I only saw anger. You picked up the vase on table and threw it between us. Not any vase- the vase my baby sister made for us when we announced our marriage.

            It was shattered. If my heart was any object that day, it was that vase. You broke into a million, unfixable, pieces. And again, I looked. For you. But I only saw the anger, the stress. That’s when I knew, when I…really, knew.

This was it. The thing that turned my heart that day, into a million pieces. It healed, over time. I got better, and learned, I grew. But it will never be the same.

I hope you’re okay. I hope you aren’t broken.

I don’t think I have ever felt my heart shatter- until that day…where it was like broken glass.