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This is a Serial Story…. if you’d like to catch it from the get go… you’ve got to go back to START…. or just select THIS.

The rest of June slipped into the western sky without so much as a smile from me. This catastrophe of a marriage that I trapped myself in at 18 years old was costing me my sanity. I had let Puerto Rico go against my gut instinct. Thinking about him my eyes filled with tears. Now I was going to have to do the same with the boy next door. What should have been real love in my life I was giving up because it was the right thing to do? God are you out there? Are you listening to this? Am I supposed to be miserable? I am still so young for this to be the rest of my life!!
My dad would sit and explain to me perseverance and determination and how I should be trying my hardest to make my marriage work. The sermons and moral standards that I had built my life around I wanted to set on fire because I wanted out. I was trapped behind what I felt was right, what I knew was right, and what I hoped was right.
The turmoil was gnawing my brain to bits. I questioned every decision I had ever made.. EVER……E-V-E-R…. Case in point… 3rd grade spelling test, I misspelled Babies… yep, not studying harder that night because I wanted to watch cartoons… dumb move Jeanna. I beat myself up over and over again. Maybe I wasn’t giving my marriage everything I had? Maybe that’s why it was failing? I should try harder.  There must be something I can do to make our marriage happy and better so that the girls look at us the way I look at my parents…. Right?
When the 4th of July rolled around the boy next door asked if I wanted to take the girls to watch the fireworks with him in Ft. Walton. I couldn’t say no to those green eyes. I just didn’t have it in me. I went. The girls “ewwwed” and “ahhhed” at all the fireworks as we laid on a blanket by the water. They fell asleep there on the sand as we talked over their heads.
He knew I was going to go back to England. He said he would wait. He would wait forever. He wasn’t  going to pressure me, he was going to leave me alone and let me deal with what I needed to deal with. I cried. I knew that was what I had to do. I wasn’t done with one mess, as my mom kept saying, I couldn’t start another one. But this mess was already all around me, I was crazy about him, that wouldn’t just go away no matter what country I was in. Would it?