A bond between two people. I confess, I am tired of hearing how very much work it is to be married. I’ve found it to be relatively easy. Whenever it becomes work, all I need do is remember what a pain it was being single, and suddenly Mark’s idiosyncrasies are quite tolerable.
My mother has rejoined the single life, living alone in an apartment. I try to be there for her often. I remember what it’s like never to have anyone right there for easy conversation. No one there to laugh at a joke, call you out on your own stupidity, or compliment a meal, an outfit, or a job well done. No one to answer simple questions, to give opinions, to date. It’s not easy without someone who wants to go out to dinner with you, will go to that wedding with you, will escort you to bosses’ dinners, baseball games, any outing, no matter how exciting or mundane.
I’d love to tell you I never get annoyed with married life, I do. But actually it’s nice to have someone other than myself at which to be annoyed. We can share blame, share praise, share income, share meals, share pets, share the load.
Don’t get me wrong, I do occasionally long for some quiet time. That doesn’t last, though. When he is gone, it isn’t long before I’m wishing he’ll come back.
Maybe it’s because I found the right person, or because we are both pretty easy-going, marriage is something that works very well for me.