Before I go off on my tangent, I have 330 minutes in for the month. Yeah. Miles to go before I sleep.
I’ve been seeing lots of commercials for dating services that promise to match people up with their perfect mate. They do this by matching up likes and dislikes, and the logic is that the more compatible the people, the better they’ll be as a couple. I’m here to tell you, total compatibility is over-rated. WAY over-rated.
Eric and I have been married for 19 years. Most of them have been good. The bad times made us stronger as individuals, as a couple and, by extension, as a family. Eric is a night owl; I turn into a pumpkin about 10:00. He gets out of bed and is out the door in twenty minutes flat. It takes me twenty minutes to get to my second cup of coffee, and that’s generally when my brain kicks in. When we married, he was a cat person and I was a dog person. It took three cats, one dog and the better part of a decade to reform me. He fights well; I tend to avoid conflict to the point of passive aggression. (Passive aggression never solved anything, and it sure doesn’t work on teenagers.) He’s Tigger; I’m Eeyore. You get the picture.
Alex and I had a conversation last night about marriage. Apparently, there are two seniors at his school who are married to each other, which just sounds insane to me, but you just never know. Most people thought Eric and I wouldn’t last. The best estimate they gave us was five years. At five years, we were strong. That’s not to say we haven’t had bad years. There was one defining moment that I’ll always remember when I asked him if he wanted me to move out. The stubborn kicked in for both of us and it slowly got better. When you meet the right person, you just know. You might not be able to tell anyone why, but you’ll know. I did. I still do.