|Warning: objects in blog post pics may appear larger than they were in reality|
As we enter the season of decorations, shiny tinsel and all things sparkly I have gone on a journey to find something special in the junk trunk. Yes, I’m back on that again. I know that I drift away from it occasionally (or more than occasionally) but that was the premise of my blog to begin with. I briefly mentioned here that I was married prior to Darling Husband. I tend to refer to him as the Practice Husband. So, I present to you the Practice Ring. No idea now what became of the real thing.
After watching my mother be married (several times) while I was growing up, I really had no idea how it was supposed to go. I sort of figured that marriages were like pancakes, you have to mess up a few (or more than a few in my mother’s case) before you get one right. Fortunately, I only had to mess up one.
I started dating him when I was 17. He was 23. We both worked at the local grocery store chain. He had red hair, a shiny red sports car, and he lifted weights regularly. All of these were attractive attributes. I’m usually more a fan of tall, dark, and handsome guys but he had a sort of ‘boyish’ charm. He was the consummate gentleman, nice church going Christian boy. (I just thew up in my mouth a little bit thinking about it)
Recently, I noticed several blogs in the vein of ‘What would you say to your 16 year old self?’. I had to work really hard to resist copycat blogging because there are so, so, so many pieces of advice that I would give myself. Probably at the top of that list would be - “You are way hotter than you can possibly imagine and immensely lovable, so when you meet the redheaded guy who works in the produce department and drives the hot car don’t merely keep on walking....RUN!”
I don’t know what to say about him other than we were incompatible. I was all free spirited, wanting to suck the marrow out of life and he seemed to have stopped maturing emotionally around the age of 14. I was in honors classes in high school and he was developmentally delayed. Not like drooling, short bus, licking the windows and wearing a helmet, delayed but not what you’d call the sharpest tool in the shed either. When I look back at that I always ask myself...‘Really? What were you thinking?’
I did manage to keep it together for 1 year and 11 months. But I couldn’t take his controlling tendencies. So one evening, I went out to the grocery store and didn’t come back. I know...that’s so cliche. But that’s exactly how it happened. He started calling everywhere and everyone we knew and no one would give me up. Most of them genuinely didn’t know where I was but those who did, weren’t talking. It felt like I was escaping. From that moment on I was experiencing what it was to be 20 years old and free for the first time. I went buck wild. But that was covered in 'the other post'. *wink*
I think the most important thing to take away from this is that I only needed one Practice Husband. Still wasn't really sure how to be a good wife or be good at being married when Darling Husband and I finally got our collective heads out of our assess and decided to tie the knot. He just happens to love me a whole lot and is exceptionally understanding. The fact that we like to fuck like minks probably doesn't hurt either, now that I think on it. *grin* Regardless of all that has gone before, I'm thankful for each deviation in my path, because any one thing changed could have led me right past the love of my life.