Whenever the first fairytale was written, I wonder if the author was writing from a place of hope, of experience, or maybe just dreaming.

Maybe it was a maiden who was searching for her prince to come and whisk her away on an adventure of mystery, romance, and bliss. I can see her writing by candle light before drifting away into dreams of her make-believe happy ending. Her reality is mundane and predictable but her fairytale is something that would bring new meaning to life and what it means to be loved.

But what if it wasn’t written by a naive dreamer? What if the first fairytale was a desperate escape of a twisted reality? What if the first author was a young girl married off at an even younger age into a life of slavery, both in the day and in the night. She escapes into the barn to steal a few moments for herself and to enter a dream. Her prince is everything that she lacks in a mate and brings everything to life that she longs for in her quiet restless nights.

Whoever wrote the first fairytale, it speaks to a girl’s heart. To be known, to be loved, and to be found worthy of something amazing. The happily ever after may not always look like we think it should but every woman at some point was a little girl who had a dream of her prince. Every woman, before being jaded, before ever having her heartbroken, before ever not being enough for someone, was just a girl waiting and dreaming.

So how do you tell a woman who has lost hope of finding her fairytale that she deserves it? I have had too many friends devastated by adventures in love, some move on, but some take months and even years to heal the wounds that shook them to the core.

I talked to a friend of mine tonight who is going to file for divorce this week from her husband of less than a year. The fairytale was a myth, that was shattered with a fist and anger. I told her that I hoped she could find peace and wisdom during this time, but my quiet prayer is that she would also find the hope to dream again. The power to dream of what love is supposed to be like but also that she would be able to heal from this shattered nightmare.

Some of the greatest adventures in life happen by mere chance. It is the risk of letting go and seeing what happens that can be the scariest jump and leap of faith.. but lead to some of the most unexpected endings. I was just walking along, trying to find my way.

When he came into my life, he was the last thing I ever expected to find. He had literally rescued me and that made me look at him differently than had we just met in a bar or through a friend. He had my respect and I could see his integrity from the beginning but he was so much more than that. It was a whirlwind of a few months. We shared such intimate private moments that at times, even thinking about them, I almost feel as though I am betraying them because of how special that moment was. It was rare. It was genuine. We shared pieces of ourselves, despite the odds.

He and I both knew going into it we would be fighting an uphill battle. The differences were just too great, but the common ground and the spark we shared was enough for us to fight for what we believed really mattered, if only to us.

I was the one who finally gave into the differences and had to do something that was harder for anyone who hasn’t had to do it to imagine. I had to get up and walk away from a man who had showed me so much. There are so many lessons I learned from him… he showed me what it felt like to be respected, yet desired. He showed me what it felt like to be adored, treasured, and despite how short our time together was, he showed me what it was like to be loved. It wasn’t as though we fought or one of us cheated, there were just things that were bigger than us and neither of us would give up where we stood on those things.

I think the hardest thing was the fact that I felt the same about him as I walked away in the fact that I cared deeply for this man. Even when we were breaking up, he was so decent. His only request was that we wouldn’t cross paths in a few months only for him to find I am dating a guy who meets the one criteria he was not, but otherwise is a complete jerk. “Please don’t settle like you have before. Please don’t sell yourself short. You deserve a real man, not a jerk.” I promised him, as I cried, and he laughed at me crying pointing out that I was the one who was doing the breaking up.

He was so unexpected and even though it was so hard and I am still sad about it, I am so thankful for having known him and the things that he taught me. It seems as though in the last 24 hours, my exes have come out of the woodwork, but he raised the bar. I am not going to settle for anything that is less than what I had to walk away from.

And who knows, he may always have a special place in my heart, I suppose there is a chance, but I will have to take the leap of faith knowing that I was true to who I am and what I believed, even if it meant an unexpected ending – which may just end up being the beginning of something I have yet to even imagine. Until then, I will just keep walking on this road and see where it may lead me.

Click.

A split second decision ignites sea of regret and embarrassment. I had made the foolish move to trust him with far more than he deserved, far more than he had earned. I think part of me had hoped that this would make him understand me more, to see where I am coming from, to see why I am afraid of letting my guard down and not being in control. But looking back, it really wasn’t about me, it was always, always, about him.

I had sat there patiently while he poured his story out to me, I never judged, I never ran, I just waited and listened and after it all, I simply said “Ok”. I didn’t need justification for his past; I didn’t need to make him feel more pain than he had already felt. He trusted me enough to bare his soul, I would never take that trust and throw it back in his face. Did I think he made some foolish choices? Of course. Was some of what happened his fault? Well, blame isn’t up to me but he could have used his head a little more to think things through. I operate under the understanding that people judge themselves harsh enough that no one else has any right to add more judgment into their life. Everyone’s situation is so unique that who am I to decide anything about that person’s life? It’s between them and God, my opinion may be given but my judgment is not allowed.

I had waited months to tell him these things. Maybe that’s why made him mad, the fact that I waited so long to trust him deeply. He played more mind games than I could count, yet I still wanted to be able to trust him so I pushed myself and let him in. Only to hear a click.

At first I was confused, wait what just happened? Did my cell drop the call? He wouldn’t really just hang up on me after I had said that… would he? Less than ten seconds later, an alert informed me that yes he had meant to hang up and according to the text, he couldn’t believe I was accusing him of being capable of doing something like that.

Wait, what? I trusted him with something so personal and private and painful and somehow it’s still about him? What planet did I just land on? It’s like if a little kid falls and skins their knee, their mother runs up to them and says, “how could you do that? You know I hate to run in heels and I was talking to someone across the street.” Um, what? There is a total disconnect between logical emotional response and the reality that this guy operates in.

He then has the audacity to not only chew me out over texting (which is lame in the first place) but then to not only NOT apologize the next day, but not contact me in any form. So four days later (and yes, still receiving the silent treatment punishment) I sum it up in a brief action: I delete him from my email, I delete him from my phone, I delete him from all means of direct contact. It may not be as dramatic as hanging up on someone who just took a huge leap of faith towards you (thus allowing them to plummet to the ground) but I shut the door of my life to him and locked the door with one swift

Click.