Introducing the Clan, Part I: The Story of Carlie and Rylie

It's late fall 2010, and Rylie and I are speeding down the interstate.  The back seat of my Saturn is full of brightly colored bags as we head home from a spontaneous shopping trip.  We've been laughing so long that we can't remember what was funny, and as we near our exit I say, "What if we didn't stop?  What if we just kept driving?"

"Do it!  Can we?  We should do it!"  Rylie is always up for an adventure.

So I floor it.  We pass our exit, and the next one, and dozens more after that.  An hour later my cheeks ache from smiling, and my sides are sore from so much laughter.  We don't stop driving until we cross the Tennessee state line.

The Family We Choose

During my last quarter hour at work, my cell phone buzzes incessantly.  I am positively bombarded by messages from my roommates.  They text to make sure I'll be home on time, to ask if I remembered to put oil in my car, or to make dinner plans. We're always checking in on each other this way.

My shifts usually run latest, so when I arrive home the whole gang is assembled in the living room.

Put it in a Box and Bury It

For the past month, I've woken with a smile on my face.  The nightmares about my husband leaving have finally subsided, and so have the sweet dreams of "before."  I don't scan crowds for his face anymore, and I'm not choking back an "I love you" at the end of our rare, abrupt conversations.  I am gradually removing all traces of my marriage from my life, and in the end I'll be left with a beautifully clean slate.  I can fill my days and my future with whatever I choose, and I adore that freedom.

New Beginnings

My name is Carlie.  I'm not sure how to begin my story, but lately life has been beautifully unpredictable, and I can't let it slip by undocumented.

For the past four years, I lived out the greatest love story I had ever known.  When I was nineteen I married my high school sweetheart, and moved to Germany with him for twenty-seven months.  He was a soldier, and moving away was easy for me, because home was where he was.  We explored castles and roamed the Bavarian Alps.  It felt like a fairy tale, but we missed home.  Then, when we finally came back to the states and my world was on the brink of perfection, my sweet, loving husband left me.  He told me he wanted a divorce while sitting in my car in a WalMart parking lot.  There was no warning and no explanation.  It's been nine weeks.  I still don't understand how he could give up something so precious so easily, and yet I've stopped looking for answers.  Understanding what happened wouldn't change it.  I won't waste even one more second feeling lost or hurt, because for four years I was happy.  I had adventures.  I did nothing I regret.