When I was in middle school, I imagined what it would be like to have a boyfriend. In my head, having a relationship was flowers and romance and kissing in the rain, and funny mishaps that always get worked out, and holding hands and always going somewhere fancy.
Marriage was foot rubs and backrubs and cooking fancy food together, still holding hands, lots of babies, and waking up every day and looking over at the one you love, and having warm fuzzy feelings, and being all adult-y. Traveling the world, flying first class, and maybe a nanny?
Never once did I think of adulthood as a constant “I wonder how much is in my checking account? I should check that. Umm...I’ll check that later. Oh shit, did I pay the gas bill?”
Marriage is sweatpants and perfect boring weekends, talking about work, arguing over what to get for dinner, becoming part of a whole second family that does things totally differently from your first family, and you already had them all figured out and now there’s a whole new family and traditions to learn and do and schedule.
Loving someone doesn’t mean they don’t annoy you. I can love the crap out of Husband and still want to flick him in the nose when he falls asleep instantly and I cannot seem to fall asleep to save my life, or when he gloats obnoxiously when he wins board and card games.
Marriage is arguing over whose turn it is to feed the cat, getting into (respectful, not mean) political debates, laughing at each other’s farts, and singing in the car to your favorite band.
I had some sort of rom-com, sitcom type of view of adulthood and marriage.
Now I live an actual life of a married adult, and it’s exactly what it should be: chaotic at times, silly, easy, complicated, fun, sometimes boring, playful, joking, scary, and calming.
Basically it’s life, but with someone who knows you really really well and still wants to stick around and hang out every day with no specific plans in place. It’s like a best friend you can kiss whenever you want, forever.
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