Chapter One

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“Fashion tip: Stilettos are great when paired with a great pair of jeans, a skirt, or a dress. Not only do they make your legs look longer and give your calves a great workout but they have the added bonus of coming in handy should you need to give a cheating husband a kick in the crotch!”

I blink hard and try to bring the papers in front of me into focus. I’m almost done. I just need to sign a few more of these freaking legal documents and I can put this ridiculous mistake of a marriage behind me. When I met Deacon, I was a sophomore in college. I was vulnerable, and looking for an escape from the boring student I had become. Deacon offered me just the release I craved. The endless parties, tapped kegs, promises of hot sex, and occasionally other experimentation that I choose to forget, made getting involved with him a no-brainer. Add a side of studying and managing a fashion blog that took on a life of its own, you have my college life and relationship with Deacon in a nutshell.

My heart aches; anguish now courses through my veins just as steadily as blood. I’m really not sure at this point how or why I am still feeling pain. If I’m honest with myself, I can’t really be surprised my marriage has ended this way. I mean, I got married in Vegas for god’s sake; at a drive up chapel, after a drunken late night proposal that I can barely remember. Spring Break during our senior year, a bunch of us had the brilliant idea to spend the week in Vegas. One night during our stay, we did the traditional walk up and down the strip, drinking the whole way. I vaguely remember Deacon making a production on the sidewalk, getting down on one knee and asking me to marry him, a rose he had bought from a street vendor in hand. Amongst the hoots and hollers of our friends, I impulsively accepted and we flagged down a taxi cab to take us to the closest chapel.

This bizarre wedding was only the beginning of what ended up being a marriage full of questions and contradictions. I spent years wondering what I had gotten myself into and questioning why I stayed as long as I did. So the question remains, why then, am I still struggling? I’ve cried until I heaved from it over and over again and had nothing left. I’ve been so angry, that it felt like my insides were burning, and I was sure I was going to combust from the intensity of my fury. How my heart can still ache at a loss that frankly has been coming for a while, is unfathomable to me.

I stare again at the papers, and while the whole document is in the same font, the words Dissolution of Marriage seem to be screaming at me, taunting me with their meaning.

Dissolution of Marriage.

Divorced at twenty – five.

Single and just another statistic to add to the divorce rate.

Admitting I never thought this would happen to me is a gigantic understatement. My life wasn’t supposed to go this way. At one time I had a plan, a dream, but little by little, it all fell apart.

I briefly close my eyes and see myself on my wedding day, well what I remember of it anyway. Wearing my favorite designer jeans and Madonna t-shirt, giggling, with a cocktail in my hand; and while it may have been a crazy and an impulsive thing to do, I was actually elated and excited. When I woke up the next morning and realized what I had done, I knew things would never be the same. I had a brief sense of uncertainty and I wondered how I could have been so impulsive to make such a huge, life-altering decision, but at the same time, all I could see was the life I had always envisioned, more exciting and fuller because instead of just me…there would be an us. I wouldn’t have to be alone, vulnerable, and looking for an escape again. Maybe I could even resurrect the real me and get my life back on track. I would have a husband that would support me no matter what. Right? Any and all naysayers be damned, my life was about to start, and I would prove them all wrong. The world was mine! What a fool I was.

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