For eight long years, I was entangled in an on-again, off-again relationship with a divorced man whose heart was never fully mine. We split and reconciled so often, I lost count—until I finally did. Ninety-four breakups. Five divorces. Each one chipped away at what little hope I had left.

The first time we broke up? I was losing my virginity to him when his ex-wife called, asking for bread. He got up and left. The fifth time? I was pregnant with his child. But when his ex-wife had complications with her pregnancy, he rushed to her side and left me alone ...

For eight long years, I was entangled in an on-again, off-again relationship with a divorced man whose heart was never fully mine. We split and reconciled so often, I lost count—until I finally did. Ninety-four breakups. Five divorces. Each one chipped away at what little hope I had left.

The first time we broke up? I was losing my virginity to him when his ex-wife called, asking for bread. He got up and left. The fifth time? I was pregnant with his child. But when his ex-wife had complications with her pregnancy, he rushed to her side and left me alone on a highway. I ended up in a car accident and lost the baby. He arrived at the hospital looking like he hadn’t come from an emergency room, but from her bed.

Still, I stayed. I forgave. I waited. Until our most recent divorce, his ex-wife needed to appear in a reality TV show as part of a perfect family unit, so he divorced me to play the role of the ideal ex-husband and father. When filming ended, he came back, ready to remarry.
But this time, I’m done. I’m not going back. Because I’ve finally said yes to someone else—someone who chose me the first time, and every time after.