Sometimes I feel like a river, constantly on the run. And there are times when I wonder if I will ever stop running from commitment.
I was eighteen when I got married. I decided to leave my husband when I caught him using heroin. I realized that I'd married an idiot, and wanted out right then and there. But it wasn't easy, after all, I'd just promised to love him through good times and bad, for better for worse, for the rest of my life. Well, where the hell was better?
I wasn't prepared for the pain when I packed
my things and turned my back on him. I felt
horrible about myself, consumed by guilt.
I resented the fact that I wanted to leave but
felt bound, trapped, imprisoned by the
promises I made. I resented the helplessness that wrapped itself around me like a cloak.
I never wanted to feel that way again.
I struggled with the guilt for six months. And when he wouldn't give up using, I said to hell
with for better or worse--to hell with in good
times and bad, forever was the rest of my life, and I wasn't about to spend it trying to save
him--to hell with my married vows. I shrugged
the guilt off my shoulders, dust off my boots and walk away without a backward glance.
I've been running away from commitment ever since--running like a river, and I can't seem to stop. When I get involve with someone I really
like, I pray that he will not want to marry me.
I'm going to stop running one of these days.