Touched for the Very First Time
The first time with my fiance, I just knew it.
With vivid clarity, I remember the exact moment I knew I should back out of my wedding. I was twenty-three. I’d known my betrothed for six weeks when he proposed. He wanted to be in the ministry. Came from a good family. And, he was a pretty, pretty boy.
But, I can see his face contort when he screamed at me the first time. His voice still pings around my memory, along with the crunch as he plowed the car into the grassy shoulder.
I dismissed it. People had tempers, right? Sometimes they lost it. So what.
But a whisper scratched through my heartbeat. Callitoffcallitoffcallitoff. Youshouldcallitoff. Now.
Imagining what people would think if I gave up, how they would make fun, was fingernails and chalk. I heard my early warnings screeching underneath the escalating noise of five married years of my life.
Half a decade.
The first time you know.
This post is part of the series “My First Times.” To read the first post in the series, click here: http://andrawatkins.com/2013/07/15/theres-no-time-like-the-first-time/ To read the second post, click here: http://andrawatkins.com/2013/07/16/the-first-times-the-charm/ To read the third post, click here: http://andrawatkins.com/2013/07/17/love-at-first-bite/
Will I write about my first time? You’ll have to read the rest of the series to find out.