Saturday, October 8, 2011

All the Way to Up to Eleven

October 8, 2005 changed my life.

Under different circumstances I would not have been on the Queen of Capilano from Horseshoe Bay to Snug Cove.

I wasn't nervous because I knew that it was the only way we could be together and what I wanted more than to marry was to be together. Marriage was the only way I could get what I wanted. So maybe because of that I tried a little harder to make sure that I didn't end up being the one word reason as to why my husband couldn't have fun.

"Wanna go out Friday night?"

"No. Can't."



I didn't want to be that person.

One day he said he was going to talk to an academic advisor at the local college. When I got home from work he told me that he was starting college on Monday and had quit his job. I didn't freak out because I knew that whatever he had signed himself up for was going to be a good investment.

He worked his ass off and has got amazing grades. I'm really proud of him. He graduates in December.

When I got sick I told him that if he was going to leave because I was sick to do it then. I would be able to work out other arrangements.

He didn't leave. He hasn't been anything but supportive and encouraging.

There have been times, especially in the first year and a bit, when I threw my hands up and wondered aloud why I had done this. Why had I dragged a man out of his country to marry him when obviously it wasn't going to work out? How could I have been so stupid?

We ended up working that out. Since then there hasn't been a problem that we couldn't work out.

I don't know what the future is going to bring. I just know that after 6 years of civil marriage and almost 7 years together we're still a team. I also know that I have never committed to doing anything, ever, day in and day out for six straight years. Hell, in the course of that time I've been through 4 different hair colours.

We got through the chronically broke year of him not being able to work, we got through the nearly always broke year of his first three semesters of school, we got through the very, very broke 9 months of me on disability. We got through the terrible confusion and misunderstandings that happened in the 6 months after my diagnosis and relapse.

I'd like to think that we got through it because we wanted to be together more than we wanted to walk away; but I must admit there were times early on when only my legal obligations to him as his immigration sponsor kept me from packing my shit and leaving. With those obligations done I think that I stay for the same reasons I got into this in the first place.

I want us to be together. I married him because I couldn't live with the "What if..." of not knowing if it could work out. I don't know what the ending is yet and I'm in no hurry to find out what the conclusion is to our story. Every single day I am full of love, appreciation and gratitude that we decided to embark on this great experiment together.

Happy Anniversary, Baby. My love for you is turned all the way up to eleven.