... the only person I've ever loved in this life, and I lost her forever.
She cheated on me, too, sure. But I don't care. She was the one soul who saw the real me and said, "I love and embrace you." Hell, I wouldn't blame her, necessarily, for needing to find some support elsewhere, because she certainly couldn't get it from me all the time.
But I cheated on her when I had her love and understanding. It was a gross betrayal, and I did it, anyway. She didn't deserve that. We met in high school, and it was all over with. We got engaged eventually, and we both moved to Nashville to pursue different, but similar, career paths.
During that period I was sexually abused by a powerful mogul in the country music industry, and she graduated university and went on to work on Music Row. She went there for the right reasons, and I went there to chase stardom. Her motivations were altruistic and attainable; my motives were selfish, short-sighted, and altogether ignorant.
After I cheated, she took me back. It didn't last much longer, but we both knew we had to try again. We were the other half of one another, after all. It turns out not to have been meant to be, but I'm convinced that's my fault.
I'm the one who has an entire book coming out about my own victimization at the hands of another in the Nashville scene, but the love of my life deserves her own volume on all the ways I dismissed, used, and took our bond for granted.
Does this mean it wasn't love? Absolutely not. Love is messy. Love is elusive. Love doesn't care about the trivial things.
I love her to this day, and I don't think that'll ever change. I love her with all my heart. She isn't the one that got away, but rather the one I didn't appreciate and watched walk away. Even if I wanted to love another, I wouldn't be able to. She is inside of me, and, eighteen years later, she is always with me.
... and I deserve everything that has happened to me since.
-B-