Leap of Faith

It has been said that sometimes our only available transportation is a leap of faith.  I have learned some very valuable lessons during the course of or thereafter some of those leaps – some that have shaped a few of my present day beliefs on life and love and some that threatened to mold me into a cynical bitch.  Thankfully, I challenged the latter with my compassionate heart and a little virtuous practice called, forgiveness.

If someone had approached me four years ago and said, “This exact day, four years from now, you’ll be filling out lengthy divorce paperwork and reluctantly visiting the Los Angeles county courthouse on multiple occasions,” I probably would have chuckled and responded with, “That couldn’t be possible because I’m never getting married.”  And I would have meant it.

I proceed with caution, as I write, as this is such a sensitive situation, surrounded by a multitude of conflicting emotions for all who are involved.  I choose my words with great care and absolutely no intent of inflicting harm and I have purposely omitted or changed names for the sake of privacy.

Once upon a time, a twenty-five year old woman sat across from a twenty-one year old boy at The High Line, a raised park constructed over an old railroad line in Manhattan’s west side.  He spoke with such vigor and conviction about his beliefs on family, marriage and children.  He respectfully stated his differing opinions of her contentment with possibly being a single mother one day, should her so-called biological clock begin ticking.  He willfully shared his visible enthusiasm and his deep desire to be a father one day.  And in four days, they had fallen in love.  Two years later, the woman who swore to every one she’d never get married and truly believed it in her own heart, married the passionate boy who managed to drastically change her stubborn mind.  A year after that, give or take a few days, they had fallen out of love.

Now, obviously, there are a lot of details intentionally excluded from the above love story, but for sake of this particular post, I only want to speak on that giant leap of faith.  A lot of times, these leaps are taken with a blindfold on.  For some reason, love tends to blind us of very crucial details, red flags as I like to call them, which is part of the reason why I’ve purposely omitted three years of information for now.  You see, after that boy actively pursued and confessed his undying love and need for a marriage certificate or “piece of paper” as the woman liked to call it, the woman decided it was time to take a leap of faith.  At the time, it appeared to be the only available transportation and so it went.  Three years later, after losing what seemed like everything she ever earnestly loved, she found out that sometimes the only available transportation to a renaissance is a roller coaster.

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