Queen of Rambles

Why is it that I go to bed at the same time as Mike, get up two hours later than Mike, and am still utterly exhausted at the end of every day? I could probably fall asleep right now but I want to write a little something first. Too bad I don’t have a topic to write about!

I got a phone call from Annica today, which is always interesting. It’s been so slippery out that we’ve both been scared to drive and she lives too far to walk (for me, she doesn’t mind the hour and a half walk). She’s come to an epiphany. Her marriage blues are not all the fault of her husband. She needs to make an effort to better their relationship as well! I tried not to laugh in the receiver. How can a person be married for eight years and not realize it’s a two way street? At least understands now and is making an effort to improve things.

Not that I’m claiming to be a relationship expert. I’m not. I am incredibly happy and in love with my boyo, but I consider that dumb luck. I’m amazed that I have found myself in such a healthy relationship because I never saw a healthy relationship until I was 18 years old.

My parents should never have been married. I guess there must have been some spark at one point, but all I saw was my mom being a slave to my dad’s whims. She did everything: house work, yard work, taking care of two kids, taking care of the finances, cooking. Everything. My dad went to work. He thought that was all he needed to do. Weekends were always a gamble at my house. If we were lucky he would go camping and we would have two or three blissful days without his bellowing voice and deadly farts. He was like Jabba the Hut, a giant blob of flesh laying on the couch expecting his every need to be met by whoever happened to be around. My mother was miserable but thought it was better to stick it out for financial reasons. He was a plumber and made very good money, though he spent the majority of it on booze and “big boy toys”. He did pay the bills so that was something.

I was pretty much a loner in my younger days and I come from a very small family, so I didn’t get the chance to see many other married couples in action. I saw my best friend’s parents and they were just as bad as mine. His father was a work-a-holic instead of an alcoholic but he was still a big, bald Jabba who bellowed and farted at will. His wife was miserable. His children were miserable. He was a respected member of the community and a very strict religious (Mormon) man. Yet it didn’t work for them either.

Living with those two examples (I easily spent just as much time at my friend’s house as I did at my house) made me believe that I didn’t need a man or marriage. My mom reinforced this idea by telling every one that I didn’t need or want a boyfriend because I had plans and goals. A boy would only get in the way. I suppose I didn’t need a boyfriend, but I sure wanted one. I didn’t know how to go about it and was much too shy to pursue any boys or even talk to boys so I read cheap romances and figured I was better off with the fantasy.

During my four years of college I spent a lot of time with my aunt and uncle (my grandma’s brother) on their chicken farm. That was the first time I ever saw true love. They were old and I never really associated love with old people before, but it shone out of their eyes and was evident in their every day actions. She cooked food she knew he would like. He carved her little games that he knew she would like. They held hands when they walked around the fields. She would always buy the kind of ice cream he loved even though she hated it. It was just a really quiet love, yet it blazed in a way that I’d never seen love. It made me want what they had, but I had no idea how to get it. It was nice to know it existed, though.

I think when you come from a dysfunctional home you either totally turn on the whole lifestyle and go to the opposite extreme or you get trapped in the pattern and end up with a man exactly like the man you are trying to escape. I went in the opposite direction. I figured all men were pigs and none were worth my time. I would have liked to have a boyfriend on some level, but on a much deeper and darker level I wanted to keep my life happy. That meant no men to mess up my plans.

Luckily Mike found me even though I wasn’t looking and he helped lift me up and take me to the next level. Now I that I know and understand real love I never want to lose it so I always want to make sure that we are communicating well and having a good time together. I don’t want to hold grudges (I’m a very good grudge holder). I don’t want to fight over stupid stuff. I just want to have this love for the rest of my life. I think that is the difference between Annica and myself. She’s always had boyfriends and can see herself loving someone else and being in a different situation. I can’t imagine ever finding another person to love. I have my Mike and that’s all I need (that, and a big ol’ bar of chocolate the day I get my gall bladder removed).

This entry was posted on Wednesday, October 29th, 2003 at 10:04 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.