Twas Brillig

Are you playing SOS too? If so, enter the link to your post.  (Find out about Soap Opera Sunday here.)  Everyone is invited to play!

(Part three of the Blake series. Part one, part two.)

Blake wanted to marry me.

We were having so much fun. He was so cute, so easy to be with. While we were incredibly different on the surface, we actually had a lot in common. For one thing, we shared a religion and religious goals. That was huge, because my religion was (still is!) everything to me. We were passionate about similar social issues— civil rights, tolerance, love, and just basic kindness. In fact, Blake was the kindest person I’d ever known. But he was also funny, obnoxious, and a big fat stinker—in all the right ways. He made me laugh, and better yet, he laughed at my jokes! He thought I was smart and hilarious! WOW! How could I not fall madly in love with him?

And, indeed, I HAD fallen madly in love with him.  I had said, “I love you” to other boys, I might have even thought that I’d meant it before.  But this?  This was so different.  This was life-altering, soul-consuming, tear-shedding, toe-tingling, floating-on-air LOVE.

And then he had to go and ruin it by trying to get me to marry him.

See, I was only 21. I was so young and I had so much left to do. I wanted to be someone before I got married— I had places to go, books to write, languages to learn, motion pictures to star in, and boys… there were so many more boys that I’d never dated. Age 21 is that age, you know? I was at my mental and physical peak and I couldn’t waste that by getting married! Ick!

Blake tried to be patient, but he was ready to get this show on the road. He loved me, I loved him, why weren’t we getting married?

I couldn’t really explain it, but I just wasn’t ready.  I did love him, I really did.  But I felt like I was being given an ultimatum:  marry Blake, or break up with him.

So I broke up with him.

Now, by this point in my life, I’d broken up with a lot of boys.  Always me— I was always the one doing the dumping and the leaving.  And every time I’d broken up with someone, I felt as though a huge burden had been lifted from my shoulders.

I was waiting for that feeling— that relief— but instead, as I walked out of his living room that night, leaving him with tears pouring down his cheeks, I felt bleak.  Miserable.  Like someone had permanently turned out the lights.  And then… the tears came.  Tears!  I bawled and bawled for days!  This was NOT like the other times.  This was the worst feeling I could imagine.

I had made a huge mistake.

(to be continued…)