Runaway Bride
A cigarette and coffee whilst watching the sun come up in Tahiti is so amazing that I wish I’d written it on a bucket list, just for the satisfaction of crossing it off. Even with my life in shambles, there was peace in this moment. I inhaled and thought about the last twenty-four hours…
My wedding. I was halfway down the aisle when I looked at my husband-to-be's face and my life flashed before my eyes. Not the events in my past, but what awaited me in my future. With an abrupt about-face, I turned tail and ran past the shocked expressions of the guests who came for a wedding and stayed for a show.
Was it tacky to make use of the tickets to our honeymoon destination? Probably. But I needed to think, and the incessant ringing and pinging of my phone was starting to make my brain hurt. I turned it off and told the limo driver we’d hired to take us to the reception to head in the direction of the airport instead. And with that decision made, I'd felt calm for the first time in months…though I did have a moment of hysterical giggles when the TSA agent frisked me in my voluminous wedding gown. Thankfully, everything we needed for our trip was already in the car and I was able to change out of the fluffy monstrosity in a bathroom near the gate. I left my dress on a hook on the back of the stall door and felt utterly unencumbered when I walked out to await my flight.
I looked around now at my tropical anti-honeymoon. This wasn’t a bad place to think, really. Palm trees swayed in the breeze and the ocean sparkled under the rising sun. The feeling like I was slowly being choked to death was finally starting to abate. My now-ex wasn’t a horrible guy, but when I thought of him in conjunction with passion and love and a soft place to land - not to mention fidelity and loyalty - my mind went blank. It’s amazing what we can talk ourselves into when we fear loneliness.
I’d never been alone and now I was. It felt amazing. Free.
A shit-storm of epic proportions awaited me back home, but the idea of walking in to an apartment devoid of another human being made it bearable. From the rather graphic texts sent this morning, I'd gleaned that he’d moved out. Apathetically, I considered telling him what he suggested wasn’t anatomically possible, but that would just poke the bear. And that I did not want to do.
He’s the kind of man who gets pleasure out of making others suffer in small ways, without them even realizing it. Death by a thousand cuts. He’d build me up and then slowly withdraw his approval, only to give it back to me in tiny portions. A slow-moving roller coaster of highs and lows that left me in tears more times than I could count. I’d do more and more to get back to a place where he thought I was wonderful...and he’d withhold those words, dangling them over my head and I’d jump and jump and never reach them. Innocuously insidious, that one. Too bad I had this epiphany right as I was walking down the aisle.
The face I saw when I looked back before running out of the church wasn’t hurt. It was furious. I smiled at that and took another drag. He never expected me to find my backbone. Live and learn, right?