I looked across the table at Nicole’s face. I was intimately familiar with every single bit of her beautiful face. We had dated for several years and we were engaged to be married. But I suddenly saw her as though it was for the first time.
“I can’t marry you,” I thought to myself. “I absolutely can’t marry you. We’re not right for each other.”
I had known this for a long time, but I had been lying to myself. On the surface, Nicole was everything I could want. She was a tall, beautiful and well-educated woman from the Midwest. She had moved to Birmingham because she loved me and wanted a future with me.
I had been lying to myself about her for quite some time. After I broke up with her early in the relationship and she begged me to give us another chance, I relented — even though I knew better. When she told me she wanted to move down here for us to date full time, I didn’t promise her anything, but I also didn’t tell her what I knew — that it wouldn’t work.

Fear of possible violence keeps some people trapped by misery
Why are we uncomfortable when other people aren’t much like us?
How could we take responsibility but avoid self-destructive shame?
Father who I saw as Mr. Morality turned out to be a liar and a thief
Is there life on Mars? Is there love? Where can we find what’s missing?
Only through death of empires can something new take their places
You’re not watching real news; you’re watching a scripted show
Fiscal sanity is dead because most people are irrational hypocrites