For seven years, I told myself real commitment didn't need to be part of my relationship.

He proposed repeatedly.

It felt delicious to feel so desirable, especially after divorce.

But not delicious enough to give up my freedom, my independence, or my belief that I was above all that cheesy love shit.

Then the relationship ended. I was fine.

For about two weeks.

This episode is what happened when reality sunk in.

The patterns I had no idea I was running..

The guidance that told me to say the one thing I never wanted to say..

To a man who'd already moved on..

And a conversation that involved a lemonade, a box of marbles, and me looking for the nearest exit.

It gets messy. It gets humbling.

And it showed me that side-stepping commitment was never about freedom at all.

This is that story.