1 ITCHING TO TELL YOU A STORY THAT TAKES COURAGE TO REVEAL

         Hello.  My name is Annie, and I’m itching to tell you a story that takes courage to reveal.  This true tale of love gone wrong is made up of a series of stories, extending over many years.  And each story relates to how I learned to repair my battered ego after having been emotionally brow beaten by a mean-minded band of prepubescent bullies—repeatedly.
         My purpose in baring these stories (some funny, some serious, all deeply personal) is to highlight classic reasons why my husband and I broke apart though we'd vowed to love, honor, and nurture each other 'till death do we part'.  In short, I believe that with insight and hindsight as my guides, these stories may serve as warning signs for you and yours, which had been sadly missed by me and mine, as in:  DANGER—head on collisions dead ahead.  In short, I aim to show you what happens when defensive reactions drive two smart people close to crazy.         
         Having mentioned that every story is true, it seems wise to protect the privacy of those who've touched our lives.  So in lieu of writing a profile, I'd like you to get to know me as I've come to know myself, little by little.

         Also as each story unfolds, I hope you'll keep this insight in mind:  A story is like a puzzle in that essential pieces must be properly placed.  When essential details are ignored or misplaced or distorted, stories, like puzzles, remain confusing or incomplete.  However, if a storyteller works painstakingly to retrieve forgotten details, which fill in a story's holes, the whole truth of 'the bigger picture' may be revealed to all who'd felt stymied by—human nature, which has two sides—before.

  As my stories unfold and missing details emerge, you'll see how bigger pictures transform confusing misperceptions into moments of—clarity that may inspire change for the better to take place, as though all on its own for this reason:.

         With clarity, eyes open in surprise; perspectives expand and heartfelt goals, which had once seemed unattainable, may suddenly dangle within reach.  And with thoughts of bigger pictures turning lost causes around, I'll entice you to ride sidekick through my stories by offering this glimpse of what's to come:

           Once upon a time, my husband joked that people are born with a finite number of words.  And after we’ve used those words our lips are zipped—forever!  Then he went on to say that while I jabber away, he’s saving his words till every last one of mine is gone.  And once my lips have zipped—forever—he’ll say everything that’s ever been on his mind and watch me go crazy when I can’t answer back!
          Knowing myself as loquacious, I laughed really hard and said, very funny.  Then laughter turned to tears, because his theory came true, and my words actually dried up.  Upon finding me speechless, this man of few words spoke his mind; a moving van pulled up; an apartment lease was signed, and everyone who cared—most especially our kids—felt rocked to the core to hear such shocking news.  If that was the bad news then here’s the good: Though my voice dried up, my core belief in myself did not, which is why—after we’d split, a whole new game plan for my life shaped up inside my mind.

THE END

P.S.  Oh wait—here's a detail that may be helpful right from the start:  Going crazy’s not my style.  So instead of losing my cool, I conjured up Walden Pond and dived into the deep end of my mind where memories, too painful to recall, float just beneath the surface of conscious awareness.  And though I’m eager to clue you in as to what happened once subconscious memories emerged, well, we’ve only just met, and I don’t want to outstay my welcome.  So thinking to give your ear (and my newly revived voice) a rest, I'll bid happy trails to my family and friends, both old and new, until we meet, again.  :-) Annie