I never really thought about what it means to be married. I know it means a ring on your finger and till death do us part, but what does it really mean?
It means that I’m married to my best friend. Which means that I get to spend the rest of my life with him.
It means that we’re going to get on each other’s nerves and we’re going to be so mad we could walk out…but it means that we won’t.
It means that we keep trying to make our relationship perfect. Until the day we die. But really…until the day we die. Not until the day that I get annoyed and decide I don’t want to try anymore. Not until the day that we buy a house at MY insistance and now we don’t have any money and money is ALWAYS a problem and one of us decides we don’t want to deal with money troubles anymore.
It means that we will make each other so happy we could burst some days, but not every day. And that’s Ok. That our relationship will continue to change and we don’t feel the same way about each other today as we did when we first met or as we will five, ten, twenty five years down the road. And that’s OK.
It means that we don’t have sex every day and that’s normal. And Ok. (And if you’re friends of ours, it means that you no longer have to give blow jobs 🙂 )
I guess being married really means work. It’s not going to be like in movies or poems or theatre or romance novels. But no one tells you that.
No one tells you that you’ll get to the point where you can spend the night away from each other and it’s Ok. No one tells you that you won’t always feel as passionate and as “OhmygodI’mgoingtodiewithoutyou” as you did when you first met.
There’s a fine line between obsession and Love. And I’m glad I’m on the side of Love.