No Third Time's a Charm.

You see, I've been married and divorced twice.

I've been heard to say, "NOPE. No third time's a charm for me."

or

"I will never get married again."

Never say Never.

Isn't that what "they" say?  I don't know who "they" are, but "they" can suck it.

"We are soul mates, we aren't like your other marriages, WE are meant for each other."  He said.

He was right, I'd not felt like this with anyone else.  In the short time we've been together we've been very happy.  In the years we've known each other, we've been great friends.  How can this be wrong?

My stomach jumped, I started to get excited. 

Ultimately I don't see myself literally being single the rest of my life no matter how many cats I pick up along the way.  I don't want to die alone, I don't want to be my only best friend.

"Yes!  I will marry you."  I screamed instantly bursting into tears.

Our lives are pretty busy and sometimes we aren't able to communicate to each other as often as we like.  The days leading up to the ceremony had been no different.  Quick conversations here and there, little flirty texts and emails.  The norm of what we had grown accustom to due to our schedules.

Day of the wedding, I'm the happiest girl, our small ceremony of close friends and family had started to assemble.  Co-workers from my previous job arrived, razzing me about being the THIRD time they've seen me get married.

"This is the one, girls.  I promise that THIS IS THE ONE.  NO more for me."  I assured them with lots of laughs and hugs.



There I stood, adorned in a way too much material for a third wedding.  I waited.  The guest grew restless.  He didn't show.  It was at this time, I noticed none of his family was there.  Things started to sink in for me I felt my heart bottoming out of my feet.

How could this happen?  How can this happen to me AGAIN?

The door opens, I hoped it was him.  It was not.  It was his family and their mission was damage control or assessment, one of the two. 

I broke down. 

I sobbed, I balled my fist into the air. 

Shocked. 

Humiliated. 

Furious.

I should have known.  Me and marriage?  We aren't a match made in any place on Earth.

I gathered my things and jumped into the car with his sister. "Take me home." I sobbed.

He was in the parking lot, he was so cold and complacent.  I ran over to him with my dress balled up in my hands so that I didn't trip.

"Why?" It was all I could muster.

"You couldn't tell?  The last few weeks, I've just lost interest."  He shrugged and started to walk away.

I swung my arms at him.  Anger pulsing through ever ounce of my being.  He turned and shot me a look of warning.  I backed off, my arms crossed of my stomach as if it would help keep my insides from hurting.

His sister ushered my almost limp body to the car, I cried.  "Three attempts, three attempts, what is wrong with me?  Why can't I have that life-long partner?  Now look at me, three kids by three different baby-daddies!"  I looked down and rubbed my swollen belly.

This is when I woke up sobbing.

***
On a real note.  My real dad's wife called last night and left me a message.

"Stacie, you need to call your dad, it's very important.  Here is his number...."

I was pissed.  If it was so damned important how come he hadn't called me himself?  I didn't call until this morning.  I got his voicemail.  I called his sister, my Aunt.

"Aunt, I got a voicemail from Dad's wife, is everyone O.K.?"

"Gramma died last night."