Ten years ago today, a certain Mr. Spencer was crazy enough to marry me.
Three new businesses, a lawsuit, a two-year Kemptville-Ktown commute, trips to Seville, London, and Paris, a theatre company, a feature film, a roadtrip across the US and Canada, a year in California, at least 520 arguments and 1825 hours of laughing later…
we’re not as thin.
And we don’t have as much hair.
On our heads.
Marriage is a lot more work than I thought it would be, which surprised me, even though it’s what everyone tells you.
Spencer’s a lot better at it than I am.
He’s got a slower fuse, a stronger work ethic, he keeps the long game in mind instead of freaking out about the little details.
It’s a weird little racket, this marriage thing. You take the one person you’re most passionate about and turn them into a family member, business partner and roommate…and then you have to somehow not become the bane of each other’s existence.
You’re bombarded with movies and books and tv shows and advertising and carefully-curated facebook and internet versions of all these picture-perfect marriages where no one leaves frigging socks everywhere, or leaves everything till the last minute and panics. There are never stacks of dishes, or weird looping arguments where it’s 2am and you’re still fighting and still mad, but neither of you could probably even say what the actual argument was about any more.
You know what, though?
Frankly, my dears, I look forward to working on it some more. We’ve stood by each other through things that might have killed it for a lot of other (more sensible?) people.
No one makes me laugh like this guy. Actually, that’s not quite true. We get into these weird, make-each-other-laugh joke/conversations that regularly bring us to tears. And the man can COOK.
Which maybe explains the ‘not as thin’ part…
Photos by (from top to bottom): Lindsay Field, Jake Bernard, Lindsay Milner X2, and a very nice (Swedish?) lady at the Tour Eiffel.