Stan and I were high school sweethearts who married while we were still young, certain that love by itself would be enough to sustain us. And for a long time, it seemed to be true — we built a calm, simple life together, always standing behind each other’s ambitions. But as the years went by, I began to sense his unease — a quiet yearning for something larger, something far beyond the life we’d made. When he was offered an impressive position across the country, he assumed I’d go with him. But my world — my parents, my commitments, my sense of home — was here, and I couldn’t walk away from it.
When I decided to stay, Stan chose a different path. He moved away, ended our marriage, and began anew — new city, new career, even a new love. Those first months without him were hard, especially financially, but I learned to stand on my own. I worked tirelessly, cared for my parents, and poured my energy into healing rather than regret. Little by little, peace found its way back into my days.
