Begin Again

February 16th 2018

The weight of the transfer papers in my hand felt like a lead brick. Moira had been so excited when she handed me the envelope, talking about tokens of gratitude and dreams realized, but as I stared at the documents, all I felt was a cold, hollow silence. I had wanted this for years. Why was it killing me?

When I broke the news to Martha, her reaction wasn't the celebration I expected. She looked at me with that familiar, piercing gaze—the one that saw right through my excuses.

"Are you really sure, Feny?" she asked, her voice tight. "I thought you were happy now with Philip."

"This is my only chance, M," I insisted, though my heart wasn't in it. "If he really loves me, he'll compromise. There's Skype, there's FaceTime, right?"

Martha scoffed, a bitter sound. "That's bullshit, Feny. You just got back into each other's arms. You're going to waste all the tears and the effort you both poured into healing just for this? He's not some random guy—he's your one true love."

"I am trying, Martha!" I felt the defensiveness rising, hot and desperate. "I'm trying to mend my broken heart, but this opportunity makes me happy, too. If I can have them both, why not? I want to soar a little higher. I just want to feel free."

Martha finished her drink, her expression shifting from anger to a heavy, crushing disappointment. "I'm not going to stop you from reaching your goals, Feny. But Philip needs to know. You can't just decide this behind his back, or you won't have anything—or anyone—left to come back to."

She was right. The guilt began to eat at me even before I opened my mouth to tell him.

The night I finally told Philip was a blur of chaos and heartbreak. I hadn't imagined he would break down like he did. He didn't just get angry; he pleaded. He sobbed, his usual stoic composure shattering into something raw and terrifying.

"If you just wanted to travel, just say it!" he had screamed, his voice cracking. "You don't have to leave me behind, again! I love you, Fen! Can't you see? I'm nothing without you! If this is your sick revenge for the past, fine! You win! Just don't leave me! I'll give you everything—just stay!"

He couldn't see my reasons. He thought money, security, and marriage were the solutions to the emptiness I felt inside myself. He didn't understand that I needed to conquer my own mountains before I could be the woman he deserved. I tried to explain that he was my ending—that I would come back to him, that no matter the distance, he was the only man I would ever love.

But the words didn't land. They were just noise over the sound of our crumbling relationship.

In the end, he did exactly what I had feared. He got tired of fighting for a woman who was already looking toward the door. The exhaustion finally won, and for the second time, he left me.

Only this time, it was my dream that was driving him away.