I guess when I got married I had it figured out.
I mean, that's what I thought. I guess. It's been six years so I'm not positive of what I really thought then.
In fact, I think what I actually thought was that I loved him and I wanted to marry him. I didn't think anything about what we would do day-to-day. I really didn't think much beyond what I would do the next day, to be honest.
Today I heard a statistic that most marriages that end? Do so in the first two years. So I guess we're about three times ahead of the curve.
Except this morning. He was on my nerves.
Not really, I guess. He was okay. We weren't fighting and nothing was really wrong, he was just blah. And when he's blah? I tend to be blah too.
Plus yesterday we had a really long talk about my new book. It wasn't a bad talk, but it's really a good talk either. So I was probably pretty blah too.
This morning I was thinking about life and marriage and what exactly it takes to stay together and how to avoid stabbing him in the face when he gets like this. Because all of those are really important and some more than others this morning.
We sat together in the pew at church. Four of us, in a row. Jason, me, the Girl Child, and the Boy Child. At one point, the Boy Child looked a little green, got up from his seat and sprinted for the bathroom.
After a few minutes Jason got up to check on him.
Because, I guess, it's love.
Love isn't puking, of course, but sometimes...I guess it is.
And I guess it's not all sunshine and rainbows. Sometimes it's comfort and security and safety. And sometimes it's not writing certain things because it's private and between the two of you and sometimes it's letting go of some things because it's the right thing to do.
I'm learning what love is. I thought I knew, but I'm learning.