Dear Daniel

I have had to do a lot of really intense, somewhat depressing writing lately, but none of it has been for my Blog. It has been several months, and a lot has happened, so it is going to take some time to catch-you-up, my readers, but I shall try my best.

First-things-first, I want to direct you to the final part of one of my most recent posts, wherein I state “I am going to start by taking some space to try to find myself again,as a single, independent woman.”, and I must now confess that this independent, empowered single woman stance did not last long at all.

After a year of longing looks, almost-kisses, want-to-but-can’t moments, myself and one Douglas [Parkinson] “DTRd” (defined the relationship) and decided to officially date.

What Defines Me? (The Consequences Of A Rash Choice: Part Two)

I have been struggling for weeks now, to find my words. I am not sure I have even found them yet. But, I promised a friend that I would try, so here I am, typing away and just hoping that my heart can speak through my typing fingers.

I am struggling, because I made a choice that I think the best way to describe would be that I am regretting. I am unaccustomed to feeling regret. One of the things that makes me, me, is the fact that I have a strict "No regrets. Ever.” policy. What do you do? How do you move on when something in your life has changed the very foundations of your identity?

The Consequences Of A Rash Choice

 I am not happy. But I am trying to be.

Five months ago, to-the-day, I made a very, very rash decision, and one that I shall have to deal with the consequences of – for good or bad, better or worse – for the rest of my life.

My ex-fiance, Robert-James, proposed marriage to me. Not the “real” kind with rings and a Church and a certificate, however. The “old-fashioned kind”, where it is just the two of us, saying our vows, dedicating our lives to one-another, and living as man and wife. So, we ran away together and eloped. Sort-of.