At the age of 18, I married for the first time. After almost 24 years of tumultuous（乱哄哄的，喧哗的） havoc1（大破坏，蹂躏） that nearly cosplayt me my life, that marriage ended in porce . I swore that I would never again care enough about anyone to let them into my life as a marriage partner; the earlier years of abuse（滥用，虐待） were too painful. For several years, that resolve（决心） was not difficult to keep. Then one day at church as I left the sanctuary2（至圣所） heading toward my Sunday school class, I spotted3 a man who was a head taller than most of the crowd. He was bald and wore glasses, and there was no particular reason to notice him. In class, there he was. He expressed his opinions freely but with a light in his eyes that showed how passionately4 he felt about what he said. Several weeks passed and I became more and more attracted to this strange man.
One Sunday, he followed me to my car and asked me to go to lunch with him. I think we both knew we felt something special for each other before that lunch was finished. Less than a month later, he proposed. I accepted but with much fear in my heart. I was determined5 not to ever be abused again. Three years of marriage to this wonderful man has brought me immense（巨大的，广大的） joy as he has showered me with his love, compassion6 and caring. He has become my husband, my lover, my companion, and my best friend. I have learned the difference between self-serving, abusive（咒骂的，虐待的） love and the real, true, self-sacrificing kind of love. The best thing I can think to say about this big, bald（秃顶的） Texan is that he enables me to find the best in myself and loves me as I am. Sometimes, love is sweeter the second time around.
