Who’s Ready for Marriage?
Okay, so my boyfriend got this huge, once in a lifetime job offer in Tucson Arizona. He called me up and asked if I would move to Tucson with him. “Tucson??????” Seriously. Tucson. My first thought was “but it’s so ugly there, hot, and miserable.” Okay that wasn’t a great first thought, but fortunately I didn’t say it. Nope. I felt extremely confident because he was drinking, so he wouldn’t remember anything I said. I replied, “Yeah, if you put a ring on my finger.”
Surprise! Three days later a ring was on my finger. Two weeks later I was in court, standing in front of the judge asking for a “move away order” that I learned might take me years to get because, of course, my ex was fighting it. Why wouldn’t he? He always fights everything. Why should that change just because I wanted to move on with my life?
A miracle occurred in the courtroom. I know that it’s amazing that I said that. I never thought I would write those words about my situation, but it was a miracle. The judge “Unofficially” stepped down from his chair and banged my X and my heads together. It hurt, but I walked out with a “move away order”, a lot less money, and legal permission to remarry.
One week later I said, “I do,” in a desert garden. Hmmm. It was beautiful and my new hubby was so excited, and I was so, frankly—scared. I tried to breathe.
Now, four months later, I am still in shock. Married? Why is the shock so much worse the third time around? I should be used to it by now. Heaven knows, I have done it enough. But I am not, and my hubby, who hadn’t been married for eighteen years, is completely at peace. Small miracles.
I would have hated it if both of us were freakin’. It’s bad enough for it to be me. Anyone relate?