Dave and I celebrated 24 years married in June, and this September, it will be 31 years since we first met. All these years later, we find little ways to celebrate each others' partnership, from date night buying gutters at Menards to Pokemon hunting while waiting for takeout because I don't want to cook.
The flip side recently has been coming to terms with people we know and love who have thrown in the towel on their relationships. My heart cried out for a friend, who recently said of his impending divorce simply, "we no longer like each other."
It hurt to even type that.
I don't know what goes into a divorce, and that's kind of what scares me, even in the security of 24 years. Where are the mistakes, the trip lines, the line you don't cross? Could I wake up one day with him showing me the door? I'm too old to start learning how to swipe right - or is it left?
The list of my imperfections is humbling and alarming. I can't reverse the signs of aging any more than he can, but I know I'm not the cute little number that lived next door to him in college. Sexy time isn't what it used to be. The worst of my shopping addictions is thrift and dollar store treats, although we've been hitting the plastic a lot lately for car repairs and a new washer and dryer. And because of COVID, I've been a bit grouchier, and a little more addicted to getting work done.
People have fawned on social media, applauding each time the calendar tabulates another year and asks us how we do it. Marry Dave is one answer I can give. Another answer is if something you are going to do hurts the other person, maybe you don't do it. But I know it depends on the people in the relationship.
I don't know. We aren't perfect, far from it. I try not to take him for granted. Maybe he's too lazy to get rid of me since splitting up the music collection would take years in the court system. Maybe my salmon patty recipe is just tasty enough to keep me around. Or maybe he can't live without me. I know I can't live without him.
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