Committed

by Elizabeth Gilbert

wrong. The voice didn’t sound like me. The voice didn’t sound like anybody. The voice sounded like something coming through a megaphone, mistranslated.

In the space of only a few hours, my life with Felipe had been neatly flipped upside down, as though by some great cosmic spatula.

Inside the somewhat rickety greenhouse of my first marriage, then, I had planted row after row of grand expectations.