The other day I was thinking about marriage and my husband and what it means to be with that one person for the rest of my life. Not that it's bad or anything, on the contrary — I love my husband to death and I'm glad that we're married. But that day I was struck by a few thoughts about this whole marriage business…
After a talk with a single friend about his new love interest, the thought struck me that I will never again get to experience the thrill and romance of new love. That whole time in my life is over for me. That's means that wow, I probably will never feel that one-of-a-kind, stomach-twisting, nerve-tingling, hormone-churning Brand New Love feeling again.
Solidifying that notion was the thought that my husband (and most of the men I've dated) will never be as romantic as he was when we first met. All those Brand New Love hormones dissolve and then, once you're married, not only does it dissolve but daily life gets in your way what with worries about horribly boring things like insurance, rent checks and thoughts about romance and grand gestures too easily get swept aside to deal with real life issues.
Then, of course, while I was fretting over my el depresso thoughts, I got a phone call about my parents' impending separation, which then REALLY ruined my day.
When Aaron come home from work that day I immediately let him know that I was having a rough time. And instead of ignoring me to play video games, he sat and watched ridiculous movies with me all night. Watching movies turned into cuddling, which turned into talk of sexy-time, and so we made our way into the bedroom. Once in bed and in his arms I ended up bawling my eyes out! (WTF Megan!? Way to be sexy.) But Aaron was awesome. He talked me through all my emo bullshit and then he acted silly with me to make me laugh. And it's like — Okay, we may not be as romantic as we were when we first started dating, but we ALWAYS have each other's back. And that is pretty damn romantic!
My husband was so romantic by just being sweet to me that night. It didn't take a grand gesture, it didn't take buying me something, and it didn't take a new love — it just took the time that he wanted to spend getting laid, and spending it instead talking to me about about my feeeeeelings and then trying to make me laugh. Amazing.
Then I realized that even though I will never again experience the thrill of a new relationship, I have the thrill of a growing relationship. And as my relationship grows, so should my ideas of romance. It's not always flowers and making out and playing Peter Gabriel songs on a boombox. Sometimes it's crying followed by making jokes about naming your unborn children terrible things (like “Awesome” and “Second Kid”).
Thanks to the universe and my husband for giving my sad-pants attitude the little kick in the ass that it needed.