I was 30 years old and I knew better. I had more sense than my actions belied.
My BFF at the time said later that she thought I got married because I never had "you like to try everything at least once."
I was ready to move on from Southern Pines. I thought living in Charlotte would be fun. He lived in a small apartment. I suggested I could sell my house in Southern Pines and we could buy one in Charlotte for both of us. He liked that idea but we would have to be married. His parents were still alive and they wouldn't like his living in sin.
He was, at the time, 52 years old. His parents lived 700 miles away and were way beyond traveling anywhere outside of their town. But, no co-habitation. So we got married. Seriously, there was that much - or less - thought put into it.
I told my parents that the wedding would be small. Tiny. His kids, my BFF/family 12 peops only. In the living room. No muss, no fuss. I forgot to dictate no reception. BAD mistake. Before I knew what had hit me, my parents had rented out a ballroom and invited 300 people. We got a truckload of wedding gifts that we really didn't need or want and I spent six months writing thank you notes.
After the reception we went home to our new house in Charlotte with is kids (did I mention there were 5?) where I had to cook dinner for all of use and entertain them. I knew before it got dark that day that I had made a huge huge gynormous error. And, turns out, I was right. I also saw no way out of it. That bit took me 2.5 years to figure out.
To Be Continued