don't you even know

i was 20 years old.

i filled my car up with what was left of my belongings and gave him nearly everything.

i drove through the sierras with this song playing.  it was fall. the trees were gorgeous.

i sang yelled the words to the song with the windows down.

i let the tears follow freely as my heart ached.

i remembered my high school sweetheart and cute teenage boys.  i use to steal their kisses.

we played like kids do.

those were stupid and fun times.

as i quietly mature, learn about the gospel, start making my own decisions—i take joy in hearing how dreamy and divine it is to live in a temple marriage.

so i find a good, happy, handsome man.

and we get sealed in the temple of our God.

and not much later.

i find myself alone next to him.

i find myself at my kitchen sink staring at my perfectly clean home, the fresh hot meal i slaved over.

and wonder if he even knows me.

does he know my heart is begging for his affection?

i drive that car straight to my broken home.

and curl in a ball.

the wife of the bishop calls me to come sit in her dining room.

she tells me i will never be allowed to be sealed in the temple again.   (if you're reading this, please know this is 100% false..but i didn't find that out until a year later.)

and i slip into the darkest, loneliest time of my life.

and i find myself for years, not bitter toward marriage or toward the gospel or toward others—but now with my eyes open, i want to tell girls :  RUN.