By Courtney Stuart (Ottawa, ON)

We were the yin and yang of relationships.  People couldn't help but comment on the symmetry of our being.

Our ideals, ambitions, hopes and future career paths all meshed together flawlessly. A match made in heaven.

Slate blue eyed, honey blonde hair, just right against my twinkling green eyes and dark auburn tresses that blended together in a soft mess of curls.

Even the age gap was text book.

But the church Leadership did not agree with his choice of a girl from the wrong side of the tracks. She'll pull you away from your God-given calling.  You'll never reach your true potential, they warned.

Strongarmed, church Leadership challenged me to reconsider my affection. Called it impure for not putting his obvious calling at the forefront of my choice.

A choice never acted upon.

We drove to the picturesque village of Sassafras to share a meal of stone scones and salty tea.  The word 'date' technically forbidden.  Across the table we held hands but never said the word goodbye. 

He married a girl from the 'right' kind of family. Left his calling nonetheless and never reached his expected potential.

I married a man who knocked me on my arse and knocked my tooth out.  I made the choice to flee; to survive.  Audaciously began to thrive. 

Yet my heart still longs for what should have been.

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