The day before I was meant to marry, my fiancée passed away. Everything was ready. The dress hung neatly on its hanger. The rings waited in their box. The guests had RSVPed. The food was ordered. That afternoon, he decided to spend some quiet time at home with a few matesjust a low-key send-off to his single days, he told me, nothing wild, just sitting about with a drink, sharing stories and a laugh. I stayed behind, finishing the last bits of wedding preparation.
At half past nine, my phone rang. It was one of his friends. He explained, in a shaky voice, that my fiancée had suddenly collapsed and they were rushing him to the hospital. On the way there, I kept telling myself it was just something minor maybe a faint the strain from all the wedding nerves.
When I arrived at the hospital, they asked me to wait in a cold, empty room. I wasnt there long before a doctor came in. He walked over to me and gently asked me to take a seat. Thats where he told me the truth. I cant recall whether I screamed or wept in that moment. What I remember are the hospital sounds, the clinical bright lights and the overwhelming sense that something wasnt right, that I couldnt possibly be hearing those words, that this wasnt meant to be happening to me.
The next day, there wasnt a wedding. There was a funeral. The place where we were meant to begin our new life together was instead filled with lilies and wreaths. The same people who were supposed to watch me walk down the aisle in white were offering their condolences. I packed the dress away. Cancelled everything. I learnt how to pick up the phone, not knowing what to say, and found myself explaining again and againno, its not a mistake yes, its true yes, the coffin was the day before the wedding.
Months went by then years. I never tried for another relationship. At first, it wasnt a conscious decision. I just couldnt. Every time someone got close, something inside me shut down. I didnt know how to start over when my story had ended before it even began.
I remained on my ownnot because there werent chances, but because I never found the strength to risk my heart on something like that again.
Its been twenty years since that day. Ive built my life in a new way. I worked, looked after those close to me, learnt how to be on my own. But I never loved in quite the same way again. He was my last promise. My last shared dream. After him, I simply learnt to live by myself.
So thats my story.
