My husband is probably due one nice post, especially after this. A quick glance at my site stats confirm that Google also thinks I’m mean to my husband.
Some of you probably already guessed this, but I’m not exactly a born romantic. After I finished reading Wuthering Heights I was genuinely confused and a little angry. Why do so many people love this stupid book with no discernible plot and characters who are awful? I can understand liking the movie, but only because Laurence Olivier is really hot. I can also understand if you liked the movie far better on mute. That makes perfect sense.
I’ve never believed in soul mates, NOTHING irks me more than love triangles, and I’m not a huge fan of fairytales. (I am human, however, and will make exceptions for “The Princess Bride”.) I tend to be a little distrustful of romantic stories, seahorses, and anything else that seems too good to be true.
Instead I’m one of those annoying folks who believes relationships require effort, time to grow, high baseline compatibility, loyalty, common ground, and really good communication. I think romance dies quickly without substance. If you ask, I’m also one of the few people who will argue that arranged marriages have many benefits. (For the purpose of brevity, we can save that discussion for another day.)
Based on all of the above, plus my older sister claiming that I scared most of her boyfriends, I assumed I would be single for a long time. My sister was fond of telling me that my sense of humor was “confusing” and “not for everyone”. And since I’m a bit introverted, I was actually looking forward to prolonged spinsterhood. I planned on reading lots of books, listening to music at all hours, and being the sole owner and proprietor of the remote control. Lest you think I didn’t like men, not true, but I also genuinely liked being alone.
Then I met my husband at the ripe old age of twenty. He laughed at my jokes, made me laugh constantly, allowed me to steal his music cds (which I listened to at all hours), and somehow just understood me. We went on our first date on my 21st birthday. My husband likes to tell people that he fell in love with me that night… due to my ability to drink tequila. It’s a tribute to my husband’s storytelling that whenever he says this, men laugh, and women swoon. I actually do a little bit of both. I find it every bit as sweet as it is silly.
You see, I’m always joking about my husband, but the truth is I joke about him because he’s wonderful and doesn’t mind. He’s smarter than me. He’s funnier than me, he’s a great dad, a great husband, and he also happens to be really really cool. I was never someone who yearned to have children. I was always someone who could go either way, but after I met my husband, I knew I wanted to have a family with him. As much as we tease each other about ridiculous things, I can’t imagine my life without him. Because that’s what love is. It’s friendship, laughter, growing together, compromise, and sometimes even suffering, but doing it together.
I love you honey. Happy ten years.
And Happy (belated) Romantic Monday.