Some (confused) people believe there is only one “right” person. Fairy tales center around this magical premise. I don’t believe in this crap. I can’t believe there is one perfect person, but I do believe in perfect timing. And I believe that while you really cannot change another person, you can change yourself. AND you can motivate someone to change himself. Or herself. As case may be. Of course.
My husband, being of foreign extraction, knows about this much (holds finger and thumb less than a cm apart) about Shakespeare. We’ve been through all the sonnets (I am one hell of a sonnet reciter) and have read parts of many of the plays together (my favorites, naturally. I leave out Troilus and Cressida, and Midsummer Night’s Nonsense). We’ve also watched most of the film adaptations – everything from Mel Gibson’s Hamlet (surprisingly good) to 10 Things I Hate About You (a favorite version of The Taming of the Shrew).
Is there a magic formula that insures a long marriage? A happy one? Of course not. Will I rue the day I wrote the following words? Will I revisit this page, incredulous at my lack of foresight, my naiveté? Maybe. But I am pretty sure my marriage is here to stay. We are not very well matched. We have serious cracks in the plaster. Huge disparities in faith, background, general opinion. Spitfire tempers. Massive egos. But we do have two formidable mutual allies: The firm, middle-class belief that marriage is forever, and the belief that when a married couple fights, there is no winner. And lust. OK, THREE formidable mutual allies.
One more thing I cannot overlook: He brings out the best in me. Most of the time.
You and I had an e-exchange once about the phrase “having to work at marriage.” If marriage ever gets to be work, I’m clocking out. I have enough work already without making that a job, too.
I think the best indicator of a good marriage is one where the words “marriage,” “husband,” and “wife” seem superfluous.
So once I came upon a statement about marriage, and about the lasting marriage of a couple who seemed to be very dissimilar. The wife, when asked what they had in common, because the apparent answer was nothing, replied that she and her husband had each other in common, and I think that’s pretty cool.
Unrelated, but re your last 10 Things list, it reminded me of something else I read somewhere, in reference to Jean Cocteau, who purportedly replied to a similar question, what he’d take from his house if it were on fire, replied, “I would take the fire.” That’s pretty cool, too.