I ghosted my own wedding.

I (28f) should’ve been married two days ago. It didn’t happen. I didn’t show up. I didn’t call or text. I just didn’t go. I left the country with my dog, and I have no intention of coming back to that place. I’m not going to lie, it feels fucking fantastic.<br><br>The last ten years of my life have been a waste of time. I went to college, got a degree in a field I didn’t want, dated the wrong guy, married the wrong man (though thankfully that didn’t happen this time), and had a mother that never made me feel loved. <br><br>So I got up from my hotel room bed two mornings ago, looked at my dog, and made the decision I should’ve made years ago. I packed my bag, hailed a taxi, and went to the airport. I got off the plane in a country I’ve never visited, and I feel free. <br><br>I’m going to travel for as long as I can. I have enough money to live comfortably for five years, and I plan on enjoying every moment of it. Am I scared? Am I ever. But for once in my life, I feel like I can be myself. I feel like I can do what I want without disappointing anyone else.<br><br>The only unfortunate soul in all of this is my finance, though if he knew me as well as he thought, he would have known this was coming. He would’ve known that I wasn’t happy, he would’ve done something about it. He didn’t. He let me go, and now it’s too late.<br><br>So here I am on a beach with a full glass of wine, listening to the sound of the waves. My dog by my side and the setting sun in front of me. Tomorrow I’m going to get a tattoo, and then I’m going to get very drunk. The next day? Who knows. Anything can happen.