Me-Me #15 -- The First Marriage

Welcome to another installment of, "Come ON -- tell me the WHOLE story!" otherwise known as "I love to talk about myself", and in a pinch can be called Me-Me Monday. The object of the game is to refer to your 101 Things About Me list, pick one of your "things" and tell the whole sordid tale. If you're new and you want to grab this image for your post, see the instructions at the end of my post.

PREFACE:

This is sort of a hard one to get started. You see, my ex-husband let me know a few months back that he discovered my blog.
So of course whenever I write something that might be uncomfortable for him to read, I always think about how to say it as kindly as possible. But in the end, this is my blog and my outlet, and I have to be true to mine-own self. With that in mind --



15. I married my first husband when I was 21.



My ex-husband was the best friend of my first serious boyfriend. (No names will be changed in the telling of this tale -- deal, boys.) Dougly (the bf) and I were living together and were "sort of" engaged (that means he was all talk and no ring, girls). We'd been together for close to three years when I found out he was sleeping with one of his co-workers. His confession after being pressed was that he was using Cory, his best friend, as his scapegoat. When he was supposedly fishing with Cory, he was actually trouser fishing with whatshername (no, I really don't remember her name).



I was mostly devastated because I was so much cuter than she was. Looking back, I remember tolerating him more than I loved him, but I did love him. Still, a woman scorned (a women who had her name on lease that was now solely her responsibility) is a woman on fire.



Cory was there to pick up the pieces. He brought me movies, he brought me beer, he brought me redemption. He was, and this he knows, a great rebound.



While Dougly went on to get engaged (ring and all, the bastard) to Krista (oh, that's her name), I continued seeing Cory on the weekends. He was a student at a university some two-hours away, so I drove my clunkermobile four hours round trip to hang with him.



His brother was killed in a car accident a few months later.

A few weeks after that I discovered I was pregnant.

A few months after that, Cory started having severe panic attacks.

A few months after that, I finally told him I was pregnant.

Three weeks later I gave birth to Cadibug.

Six weeks after that, we were married in the backyard of his mother's friend.

You can see, as this is all layed out in the core details, that this was not the proper foundation with which to build a marriage upon.

And yet, we managed to keep it together for ten years, through two kids, the light and joy of our lives.

Looking back I can see that at 21, I wasn't the best decision-maker in the world. Marrying under those circumstances is like baking a cake without flour -- or heat -- or eggs. It's not his fault, and it's not my fault, and it's not our kids fault. We were young, stupid, and idealistic. We thought we could make it work, and Cory, we did make it work for a lot longer than it should have.



Thanks for introducing me to country music, and thanks for stepping up when you didn't have to. Thanks for Cadibug and Cuddlebug. Thanks for paying your support on time, every week. Lots of daddies don't do that, and it's a testament to your character. I wasn't the best decision maker at 21, but you've never let that keep you from fulfilling your obligations and treating me with kindness. Gracie.



Let me know if you played so's I can give you that linky lovin!

Here's the instructions for scarfing up this image for your Me-Me Monday:
Make sure you replace the parenthesis with < > .

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This is Funky, and that is all.