'I Do' By Steve Rudd

Nobody told me marriage would be like this. I thought it would be bliss, day in and day out, but problems soon surfaced, after our hastily arranged elopement in good old Gretna - that bizarre little settlement that straddles the border between England and Scotland as though it can't quite decide where it stands; where it belongs; which side of the metaphorical fence it is willing to support. It's a big decision. To decide, that is. I knew she was ready to say "yes," and I thought I was ready to propose, but as soon as I was down on one knee I realised that life would never be the same again, not once we'd both committed ourselves to each other.

As soon as I'd asked her to marry me I wanted to suck my words back. I'd made a mistake. I knew I had, but I daren't admit such a fact. Not there; not then… and especially not to her.

Her face was a picture of joy. She'd waited all her life for this blissful moment, and I didn't have the heart to admit that, deep down, I doubted that I would be able to love her, and to stick with her, in sickness and in health. I did love her, but that was beside the point. I'll be honest. Commitment scares the hell out of me. Yet here I am, with a ring on my finger and a baby on the way. I can't believe it. I don't believe it. We settled on matching rings that we duly presented to each other during the wedding ceremony, and - for all the pride that rose in my chest that day when we exchanged our vows - I did wonder why we courted such a compromising situation.

All because there was an offer on at our local jewellers, offering up the promise: 'Buy one ring, Get the second half price.'

Now, as I file for divorce, I wonder what we are potentially going to miss by parting ways. Even though our first-born will never really know its father, I'll never forget its immaculate conception. You might wonder what my excuse for running could possibly be, but I hoped such a thing might be obvious. I'm a man. And this man was born to run.

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