Yesterday after work I jokingly asked Mike where the stripper glitter on his cheek came from. Not sure why I always say it’s stripper sourced when a dude has glitter on his face. Maybe he was doing arts and crafts with a local kindergarten class. No, it’s because then I can say, “So how is your ex-girlfriend?” Kidding, kidding.
Turns out it’s from the anniversary card he gave me this morning. Awww. Quite honestly I’m kind of an asshole and while I knew that the date was coming up soon, with all the excitement of my Germany trip and the hangover of trying to recover from it, I somehow never actually looked at the calendar to see which day of the week it was. Oops. So when he asked me a couple days ago if I wanted to go out for sushi tonight I made some pitiful comment about whether or not we could afford to do so, and since when do you skip boys-night-basketball to take me out to dinner on a Thursday night?
See, told you I’m an asshole. But frankly, that may be the part of marriage we’re best at – forgiving each other’s dick moves, over and over and over again. It would be kind of boring to be married to someone with whom you agree all the time, no? If we didn’t infuriate each other with such intensity, I doubt we’d also be able to make each other laugh so hard as to be gasping for breath and tearing up, knowing that whatever the joke, other people probably wouldn’t even find it funny. You’d have to be there.
That’s the other thing. You do have to be there. A lot of the time, you’re there and you can think of no other place you’d rather be. Every once in a while you’re there but any other place on earth would be preferable. Sometimes you need a break, a breather. A girls’ night or a boys’ night. Sometimes not being in the same place at the same time is exquisitely painful. It’s dynamic, constantly shifting and adapting as you morph as individuals and then have to figure out how you need to change as a couple in order to survive as one. So many things have changed over the past four years, let alone over the past seven. I wouldn’t say that every person changes so much between the ages of 25 and 29 but for me, in many ways, it’s like day and night. A small part of me wonders if I would still bother with the legality, but I think so. I have a lot of respect for couples that stand up and say we won’t marry until every set of partners that wants to, can. But if I were going to do it all over again as I am now, older and wiser (hah), I would do it differently. I definitely would not have had a church ceremony, for many obvious reasons. Though I’ll always appreciate that Mike didn’t fight me (much) on wanting that at the time, because it really was what I needed then for it to feel real to me. I think I would have still taken his surname, though. Hyphenation still rings snooty to me, plus that would be an absurdly long last name, though I wouldn’t ever count out going back and adding my maiden name as a legal middle name. I do miss using it sometimes, but it’s still mine.
As usual, I don’t know where I’m going with this. Seems appropriate to trot this out again:
You cannot possess me for I belong to myself
But while we both wish it, I give you that which is mine to give.
You cannot command me, for I am a free person
But I shall serve you in those ways that you require
And the honeycomb will taste sweeter coming from my hand.
I pledge to you that yours will be the name I cry aloud in the night and
the eyes into which I smile in the morning.
I pledge to you the first bite of my meat and the first drink from my cup.
I pledge to you my living and my dying, each equally in your care.
I shall be a shield for your back and you for mine.
I shall not slander you, nor you me.
I shall honor you above all others, and when we quarrel we shall do so in
private and tell no strangers our grievances.
This is my wedding vow to you.
This is the marriage of equals.
Ich liebe dich, y te amo, et je t’aime. Sono felice che tu mi apprezzano come sono e ti amo ogni giorno di più. Come lei ha detto, e mi piace sentirla, multi-lingue (anche se, grazie a Google) e le mie dita dei piedi sono carino, troppo.