Tomorrow shouldn't be called my birthday. It should be called my Deathday. Because that is what it feels like. The day my dreams of carving pumpkins with Dan and going to the Art Fair with Dan and watching the Balloon Glow with Dan and biking to the wineries for my birthday with Dan all go up in smoke. Why? Because Dan is a fantastic man, and wouldn't break up with me on my birthday. In fact, he works really hard to hang in there and doesn't give up on people easily. I knew this but I could tell something was really wrong, and that he didn't want to bring it up right before my birthday. So I broke up with him. Then he felt free to say the following: "You are an amazing, incredible woman. You are LITERALLY everything I've prayed for, and to say that I fell head over heels for you would be a big understatement. But you are deep and emotional, and I'm not comfortable with that. I'm a straightforward, call-it-like-I-see-it kind of guy, and I know I would not only make you unhappy in the long run, but I would be forced to act like someone I'm not. I think so highly of you and have nothing but good things to say about you, but it doesn't seem like our personalities really match."
And that was it. I'm really sad now. I held it all together at school until 3 o'clock and then I started bawling my eyes out and I cried out, "Why are You doing this, Lord? I thought You were finally bringing me the right guy!" And then I looked up to see BJ Parkington still sitting at his desk finishing a quiz. FAIL. Deathday fail.
