August 10th, 2015

Three years married

Tomorrow is my third wedding anniversary (the traditionally gift for the third anniversary is leather, which strikes me as very, very weird). My original plan for this post was an amusing antipode of the post about things I liked about being single. The planned post was to include things like always being able to taste two entrees in a restaurant and having someone to post-mortem a party with on the way home. These are true things and I do enjoy them, but most of the post was rather glib.

It’s been a rough summer for marriages in my world, or maybe I’m just attuned to it right now for some reason. I feel like I’ve been hearing a lot of people whose marriages are ending or are at least pretty troubled, and that makes me feel like I do not want to write the glib post after all.

So instead, here’s what I answered when a friend asked me how I “knew” Mark was the one. In truth, I don’t think you ever know world-without-end for-sure that someone is your forever partner–the best you can hope for is a strong lead and the will to work on making it stronger. But my first clue on this was some unimportant phone call very early on in our dating life. I forget what we were talking about, making plans to get together most likely, but when I hung up I realized something I had said could be interpreted two ways: the innocuous way I meant it, and another meaner or offensive way (I honestly don’t remember) that I had not thought of at all. I stood there staring at the phone, wondering if I should call him back or whether that would seem crazy, and then I decided it was ok to leave it alone for now. Either Mark would assume the best (correct) interpretation or he would ask me about it; either way, we would work it out. I remember being surprised at myself for thinking this–if you know my panicky, neurotic self, you’ll know this kind of confidence is unlike me–but also being quite certain I was right. And I was–Mark was completely unperturbed by my gaffe.

And that’s, I think, the best-case scenario for being in love–the confidence that you can work things out with your beloved, whatever those things might be. That’s why I think the old marital-advice line “never go to bed angry” is bullsh*t–staying up and hysterically going over the same issues endlessly when I’m too exhausted to think is not productive. Why not just get some sleep and talk when we’re calm? Why not have faith in the person I love, and in myself, that we will work things out eventually? There’s no deadline, because we are committed to each other for the long haul–forever.

I used to feel weird about kissing Mark goodnight when I was mad at him, but then I thought that’s crazy–one argument does not negate my love for him, or my love of kissing him goodnight. The kiss is a signal towards future Mark and Rebecca, the ones that are past the argument and are back to being our happy selves.

And that faith, in us, in our future together, is my favourite thing about being married. Even better than having someone to lean on while I try to get a pebble out of my shoe in the middle of the sidewalk, or someone who remembers to warn me that aioli is actually mayonnaise.