Home?

I ran into Cindy, the mom of my best friend of many years’ today in “Jo-Ann,” a craft superstore if there ever was one. Anyway, Cindy (as she requested I call her, rather than Mrs. Berke) called me “an old married woman” in jest and asked me how my husband is and then commented “I just love saying that you have a husband.” In truth, my husband is amazing and I thoroughly enjoy married life at least 90 percent of the time. But it’s still a funny thing. Sometimes I lay in bed and chuckle at the thought of myself married, and us married to each other.

The thing is, life really does change a lot when people get married, but personally, I don’t feel all that much different. The ways I spend my time are different, but I still laugh at the same jokes, read the same news and literature, feel passion for the same things I used to. There is so much hype as a post-college 20-30-something about meeting the right person and getting married. I guess I was lucky enough to sort of trip and stumble into love and marriage. And I’m damn happy about it. I found someone that I can share my life with, a companion, a partner, a lover. Someone that amuses me and makes me laugh and smile. We work on stuff and make compromises as all couples have do, but I don’t have to try and be someone around him, comfort is inevitable together. Our life is my home, where as two we live and work and play together.

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One Response to Home?

  1. […] in my Midwestern hometown. My life was chaotic, as is the case for many 20-somethings, and I was newly married to Fermin, one of those very Mexican […]

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