adness in the romantic kind, of course.

Three years passed and a daughter interrupted on the scene and she brought our family together in more ways than one, and we couldn’t get any happier. Again the fairy tale was one of the Harlequin Romances, and they could write about me because I had it going on.

Of course you know when something is going so wonderfully, you have to pinch yourself, and pat yourself a few times. The devil is whispering in my ear that I’m about to rain on your parade, baby, and the honeymoon is over. I tried not listening to Satan, because he didn’t get to me. When he couldn’t throw the match on me, he found anot

We meet him across the room, our eyes stare, and our bodies go into an overdrive of heat. We as women are dreaming about the wedding dress and the bride magazines. Our wishes are granted, and we’re married, and there’s happily ever after. “I don’t think so.”

This is a fairy tale myth we believe in as we are an infant, toddler, little boy/girl, teen-ager, and then an adult. We have this image of finding the right man/woman and living happily ever after. “I don’t think so!”

Now some of us are lucky to find our dream boats in high school, and get married, and some of us are lucky to get married at the age of eighteen. You can say that I fell into this latter category. I got married at eighteen and he was twenty-one years old. I was a romantic fool because I believed in love at first sight, and love all over the place.

I blame my lack of the real world on Harlequin Romances. I began reading them at fourteen and at this time, the 80’s, there was girl meets boy, girl and boy get married, girl and boy make love, girl and boy living happily ever eternally after. This is the way the Harlequin Romances read. At the time when I was reading them they didn’t have the modern romances now where you didn’t need to get married to have sex. Harlequin has come along way now, and they have entered into the real world.

You can say that I was a fool for love. I met him on the train, and later that year we got married. I thought I was in love, and I knew he loved me by his actions. We made the perfect couple, and we were so pretty and handsome.

We embarked on our lives as a married couple – getting the apartment, and furnishing it; going to work because we both had jobs, and coming home and making love to the wee hours of the morning. My husband and I were living in the fairy tale of a Harlequin Romance. I thought I had died and gone to heaven. I was the luckiest woman to be married to a kind, handsome, sweet, giving, considerate, and loving, cooked for me, took me to work and practically carried me home from work man. I was in a band wagon of love. I felt sorry for the other eighteen year old women who couldn’t, wouldn’t, shoulda been in my shoes.

My mother adored my new husband, my father was bias because he never wanted to see his little girl get married; my sister and brother was thrilled that he was in the family, and my cousins and friends envied me in a good way. I had the world in the palm of my hand and then some. I was a Taurus and he was a Gemini, and the two should not meet, but we clashed together and it was a rainbow of ever loving madness in the romantic kind, of course.

Three years passed and a daughter interrupted on the scene and she brought our family together in more ways than one, and we couldn’t get any happier. Again the fairy tale was one of the Harlequin Romances, and they could write about me because I had it going on.

Of course you know when something is going so wonderfully, you have to pinch yourself, and pat yourself a few times. The devil is whispering in my ear that I’m about to rain on your parade, baby, and the honeymoon is over. I tried not listening to Satan, because he didn’t get to me. When he couldn’t throw the match on me, he found anoth

at I fell into this latter category. I got married at eighteen and he was twenty-one years old. I was a romantic fool because I believed in love at first sight, and love all over the place.

I blame my lack of the real world on Harlequin Romances. I began reading them at fourteen and at this time, the 80’s, there was girl meets boy, girl and boy get married, girl and boy make love, girl and boy living happily ever eternally after. This is the way the Harlequin Romances read. At the time when I was reading them they didn’t have the modern romances now where you didn’t need to get married to have sex. Harlequin has come along way now, and they have entered into the real world.

You can say that I was a fool for love. I met him on the train, and later that year we got married. I thought I was in love, and I knew he loved me by his actions. We made the perfect couple, and we were so pretty and handsome.

We embarked on our lives as a married couple – getting the apartment, and furnishing it; going to work because we both had jobs, and coming home and making love to the wee hours of the morning. My husband and I were living in the fairy tale of a Harlequin Romance. I thought I had died and gone to heaven. I was the luckiest woman to be married to a kind, handsome, sweet, giving, considerate, and loving, cooked for me, took me to work and practically carried me home from work man. I was in a band wagon of love. I felt sorry for the other eighteen year old women who couldn’t, wouldn’t, shoulda been in my shoes.

My mother adored my new husband, my father was bias because he never wanted to see his little girl get married; my sister and brother was thrilled that he was in the family, and my cousins and friends envied me in a good way. I had the world in the palm of my hand and then some. I was a Taurus and he was a Gemini, and the two should not meet, but we clashed together and it was a rainbow of ever loving madness in the romantic kind, of course.

Three years passed and a daughter interrupted on the scene and she brought our family together in more ways than one, and we couldn’t get any happier. Again the fairy tale was one of the Harlequin Romances, and they could write about me because I had it going on.

Of course you know when something is going so wonderfully, you have to pinch yourself, and pat yourself a few times. The devil is whispering in my ear that I’m about to rain on your parade, baby, and the honeymoon is over. I tried not listening to Satan, because he didn’t get to me. When he couldn’t throw the match on me, he found anot

they have entered into the real world.

You can say that I was a fool for love. I met him on the train, and later that year we got married. I thought I was in love, and I knew he loved me by his actions. We made the perfect couple, and we were so pretty and handsome.

We embarked on our lives as a married couple – getting the apartment, and furnishing it; going to work because we both had jobs, and coming home and making love to the wee hours of the morning. My husband and I were living in the fairy tale of a Harlequin Romance. I thought I had died and gone to heaven. I was the luckiest woman to be married to a kind, handsome, sweet, giving, considerate, and loving, cooked for me, took me to work and practically carried me home from work man. I was in a band wagon of love. I felt sorry for the other eighteen year old women who couldn’t, wouldn’t, shoulda been in my shoes.

My mother adored my new husband, my father was bias because he never wanted to see his little girl get married; my sister and brother was thrilled that he was in the family, and my cousins and friends envied me in a good way. I had the world in the palm of my hand and then some. I was a Taurus and he was a Gemini, and the two should not meet, but we clashed together and it was a rainbow of ever loving madness in the romantic kind, of course.

Three years passed and a daughter interrupted on the scene and she brought our family together in more ways than one, and we couldn’t get any happier. Again the fairy tale was one of the Harlequin Romances, and they could write about me because I had it going on.

Of course you know when something is going so wonderfully, you have to pinch yourself, and pat yourself a few times. The devil is whispering in my ear that I’m about to rain on your parade, baby, and the honeymoon is over. I tried not listening to Satan, because he didn’t get to me. When he couldn’t throw the match on me, he found anot

iving, considerate, and loving, cooked for me, took me to work and practically carried me home from work man. I was in a band wagon of love. I felt sorry for the other eighteen year old women who couldn’t, wouldn’t, shoulda been in my shoes.

My mother adored my new husband, my father was bias because he never wanted to see his little girl get married; my sister and brother was thrilled that he was in the family, and my cousins and friends envied me in a good way. I had the world in the palm of my hand and then some. I was a Taurus and he was a Gemini, and the two should not meet, but we clashed together and it was a rainbow of ever loving madness in the romantic kind, of course.

Three years passed and a daughter interrupted on the scene and she brought our family together in more ways than one, and we couldn’t get any happier. Again the fairy tale was one of the Harlequin Romances, and they could write about me because I had it going on.

Of course you know when something is going so wonderfully, you have to pinch yourself, and pat yourself a few times. The devil is whispering in my ear that I’m about to rain on your parade, baby, and the honeymoon is over. I tried not listening to Satan, because he didn’t get to me. When he couldn’t throw the match on me, he found anot

adness in the romantic kind, of course.

Three years passed and a daughter interrupted on the scene and she brought our family together in more ways than one, and we couldn’t get any happier. Again the fairy tale was one of the Harlequin Romances, and they could write about me because I had it going on.

Of course you know when something is going so wonderfully, you have to pinch yourself, and pat yourself a few times. The devil is whispering in my ear that I’m about to rain on your parade, baby, and the honeymoon is over. I tried not listening to Satan, because he didn’t get to me. When he couldn’t throw the match on me, he found another solace to conquer in the name of my husband.

He began whispering into his ears at every turn, telling him –“Find another woman, and sleep with her because your wife is sleeping around with other men, she doesn’t love you, and only married you because you were there; she’s in love with another man, she hates you, and she’s going to divorce you before you can say your name backwards. Cheat on the whore because there are plenty of women who’d love to be in your pants, and your bed. You’re the most handsome man in the world, and your wife doesn’t deserve you.”

The demon has risen and it’s his name of the game to ruin happy marriages, and my husband gave him the loaded gun, and he used it with bells on. He cheated on me left and right, and our marriage lasted for ten years, and I filed for divorce. I became a single woman, and it was the most devastating feeling in the world because I didn’t want to intrude on the dating scene. I never thought I’d have to fly down this route again.

My daughter and I began living as a single family with no husband or father around. I was a failure because of my marriage. I was unhappy for a while because I never wanted to fail at anything. I was better off without my husband. He was now my ex and I had come to terms with my divorce, and was glad that the baggage was tucked away forever.

As the years passed and 2005 hit upon the scene, I kept in touch with the antics that were on going in my ex-husband’s life because my daughter kept in touch with him along the way. He’d call me from time to time, and we’d talk for hours. I didn’t hate the man, and my husband realized at this point that I was really a good woman.

Guess what, he wanted me back, and he didn’t waste time expressing his views about the subject. He was mature now, and wanted to settle down with the woman he should have never divorced in the first place. When he approached me with this ridiculous scenario, I thought he was on drugs or something.

I had moved on with my life, and my ex-husband wasn’t constantly on my mind zone. I met different men, lived with one, and almost married one, not once thinking about my ex-husband. He had made the mistake of living with a good woman, but he didn’t appreciate me when I was his wife, and now he was going to honor and respect me. I had this philosophy that “once a cheater always a cheater.” “A leopard was never going to change his spots.” Did I forgive him for his indiscretions? I forgave, but I would never forget.

My husband has been literally harassing me. He wants to take me to dinner, the