When I tearfully asked for—no, demanded—an explanation, James just frowned and apologized, saying he was sorry he didn’t realize sooner he didn’t want to marry me. And then, in an almost fugue state, I gave him back my ring, dumped all my favorite clothes and belongings in a box, and left. Because I didn’t want to waste even another second with yet another person who clearly didn’t want to be with me.

The train slows down to let people off at the next stop, and I close my eyes and try to look on the bright side. At least we’re breaking up now, before we got married. I’ve heard enough horror stories through my relationship column to know it’s much better to separate while we’re engaged than to have to file for divorce later.

But as much as I try to be positive, when the train starts speeding up again, my thoughts spiral, and I think about how I don’t know what went wrong. One moment, James and I were happy and talking about wedding venues, and then the next, I was putting my things in a box.

Maybe there’s something wrong with me. Maybe I have a big MEANT TO BE FOREVER ALONE sign on my forehead that everyone can see except me. Whatever the reason, as much as I love love and made a whole career out of it, in my personal life, I give love my all, only for other people to decide they don’t want to be with me. Well, romantically at least.

In the realm of friendship, though, I’m thankfully blessed. When I texted my best friends, Val and Kiara, about what happened, they immediately offered to let me crash at their apartment.

Come on over, girl, Kiara had replied. There’s always space on Clementine for you.

Clementine is the name of Kiara’s atrociously orange sofa, the one she managed to acquire in college for only five dollars. The legend goes that she bought the couch as a joke but never had the heart to get rid of it afterward. I’ve sat on it whenever I came over, and it seemed comfy enough. And apparently people sleep on it all the time whenever they have guests from out of town, so hopefully it’ll be fine.

Thankfully, the rain stops by the time I get off the train and walk to the apartment with my box. The Inner Sunset, my friends’ neighborhood, is on the opposite side of the city from where I lived with James, but it’s still much closer than Irvine, in Southern California, where my parents are.