I soaked my pillow with my tears that night. Though worried that I would tip off the Fiori’s to what was happening, I could not contain the fountain of emotions that were streaming from my eyes. Anger, frustration, hurt, betrayal. I had never felt this heartsick. I pushed my face into my pillow, trying to muffle the wails that were emanating from somewhere deep in my gut. I wasn’t sure I would ever stop.
After what seemed like an eternity, my tears finally ran dry. As I lay there, staring at the ceiling, emotionally spent, my eyes feeling like sandpaper, my mind started whirling with questions. What had happened? What had I done? Why was Mario acting this way? Had I missed something? Had there been some red flags? Was Mario going to pull out of it? Were we still going to get married? Could I marry someone who acted this way? How could I make him snap out of it? Had this all been a mistake?
And on. And on.
The night hours were long as I wrestled with everything that had happened over the past week. I prayed. I cried. I wailed. I stared. And then I did it all over again.
Finally I fell into a fitful sleep. When I opened my eyes the next morning, I felt like I had been run over by a truck. And I still had no idea what to do.