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.
