The time is June of 1975. The place is 805 East 13th Street in Brooklyn, New York - moments forever etched in my mind.1
I run down my staircase, onto the old, wooden front porch, down the newly cemented stoop. I am enraged, engrossed in perplexity, and fueled with animal-like desperation. I hate him with an intensity that cuts deeply into my young tender heart.2
A soft voice inside my head tells me to cancel the wedding - he is not the one. I try so hard not to listen to the voice. Ed is my whole life – my reason to live. He is my breath and my firm foundation. I keep running, crying, and sobbing. My tears drip down my face.3
I run for blocks through the oak-lined streets – into the “better” neighborhood – away from wood framed two family houses and brick storefronts with 2nd and 3rd floor apartments – into blocks with names like “Argyle Road” and “Westminister Avenue” and “”Foster Ave.” I run past the houses my sometimes friends live in.4
I run all the way to the bridge that spans the “F” train tracks. I stop and stand ever so still in the middle of the bridge. I can’t cross over. I’m paralyzed, still sobbing, soaked in regrets. My sobs turn into retchings. I am paralyzed in fear - fear of losing Ed. - fear of losing the One who can save me – the One person who I believe will never leave me or forsake me.5
After an eternity of moments pass, I slowly back step to the foot of the bridge and sit on the cold cement steps. The paralysis turns into hard resolve. I will get married tomorrow. No one will stop me. I am the one who makes decisions about my life. I will get married. I choose to seal my destiny.6
As I write this 31 years after the fact. I wish that I had crossed over the bridge to the other side and just kept running. I didn’t know better. I didn’t listen to the right voice.7
I wonder what my life would have been like without Ed, without being married at 19 and then divorced at 25. Would I have had my own children? Would my teaching career have been 26 years instead of only 7? Would I be regret-free?8
Author notes
This is one of the darkest moments in my life - when my mind totally overuled my spirit.
As I look back, I see how tremendously stubborn I was. This verse sort of reveals my heart at the bridge at 19 years old:
"For I knew how stubborn you were;
the sinews of your neck were iron,
your forehead was bronze. " from Isaiah 48:4 NIV
What did you think? Please comment!
Comments
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the racing thought coincide with the fear, coinciding with the entire situation: it's all so real! i was ready to ask if it was 'til i read your author comments. *hugs* based on some of your other writes, your faith has helped you learn and get through this- i'm happy that it worked out (at least a little)
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Great story
This is to wonderful. We all come to decision points in our life where we must make a decision. So oft we make thw wrong ones and yet somehow God uses that also. I have so many places in my life where I was on a bridge like this and made the wrong decision. My biggest challenge is not looking back and living with regrets. This piece is touching and I loved reading it (all three times)
I certainly shall read the rest of your collection. -
Thanks so much for the critical comments about redundancy and past tense. I have been writing solely for my for so long. It is only in the last two years that I have shared any of my writings outside of the classtoom. I need to hear this about my own writing. I can see it and say it to my students, but still write the way I want to and not notice the faults. I don't know if that makes sense but I am very appreciate of the comments. God bless you!
-joanne -
Excellent
Oh, Joanne. . . been there, done that. Fortunately, for us all, this is just one of the trials that lead some of us to our destinies; albeit, a rather circuitous route.
That old cliche is so true: hindsight is 20/20. But, when I look back now, I see only the valuable lessons I've learned. Would that I hadn't learned them the hard way; however, I am wiser from the fire. 
This is very well written; although, there is some redundancy and a bit of phrasing that could use some improvement. Also, the standard in publishing is write in past tense; mainly because it puts the reader in the heroine's shoes, so to speak, and allows for more "show, don't tell" ability. Otherwise, your talent really does shine here, especially with the imagery and emotion.
Well done!
Lots of love and hugs, B♥nnieQ
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Oh sweetie...this was truly a wonderful write, so filled with stark poignancy, true fear and dark moments where we passed up the chance to see the light. I really enjoyed this, enjoyed even the AC comments, lol, and thank you for revealing this part of yourself for others to share in. Excellent job.
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