Feb 12, 2012
I wrote this in the middle of the night to a young friend, after waking and remembering that I had been swearing like a sailor earlier in the evening (and what a poor testimony of my Christianity that was).
I wish someone had written it to me at his age (or earlier).
Funny... Something had reminded me earlier about my first husband -- the one who got cozy with a girl at work, started using her cocaine, and deserted me. Thirty-four years later, after all the other things that have happened, I am more bitter about what he did than ever. Hard to believe!
I did things I'm ashamed now to admit, based on the damage done when he decided my shortcomings were something to talk to another woman about and take to her bed. Their relationship only lasted three months, then he spent nineteen years jerking me around while he tried to have his cake and eat it too. Neither of us had any idea that there were rules we could have followed to prevent the mistakes we made.
Even as the pain has subsided, the hatred has grown. Hate is a big word, one it embarrasses me to have to admit describes what I feel... and possibly the best reason I can offer you for going to God before even thinking about entering a relationship, much less before leaving one.
God didn't give us the Bible's admonishments about sex and marriage to keep us from having fun... those rules are all about protecting us from hurts that will color who we are, what we do, and what we think about ourselves for the rest of our lives. Thank God there were no children, or the devastation I felt would have been a curse to them, too.
Don't be sorry you don't have somebody. Be sorry you don't know any of the rules for having a Godly relationship. It's pretty well ruined my whole life... from my parents, who got pregnant in college, to the hell I went through this August that landed me here, alone and hurting. It could've been a different life. I could've been secure and happy today.