I was standing in the backyard of my mothers house when I told my husband I didn’t want to be married to him anymore. It was a couple of days after I had found about about the affair… and a few minutes after he admitted that he had told the girl he had been seeing that he didn’t love me. After he told me what he said was true, that he didn’t love me anymore. It was few minutes after my heart had been smashed into a thousand pieces. It wasn’t long after that that he began to beg, that he told me that he didn’t want our marriage to be over. That he didn’t want to leave. That he didn’t want this to change things. But it had, of course. Hearts don’t forget words like that.