In high school I didn't date anyone. I had crushes, and two very nice, kind, funny, handsome kids had crushes on me. I was too scared and shy to like them back. Too awkward. It was awful and excruciating to me that anyone could possibly like me.
College was a little different. I dated two people. More like two and a half, actually, but I'll only count two. I loved both, in a super young, immature sort of way. Only told one of them that I loved them, but managed, through the years, to stay in some sort of touch with both. Both are married now and seem, from their presence on Facebook, to be happy. Who doesn't seem happy on Facebook? Me. I don't. Anyhow, I just want to say that whenever I see photos of the second person I dated, I become completely self-congratulatory because while she was beautiful in college, she is absolutely stunning now. Radiant. And has been a great source of parenting info, when asked. The other person, a lovely and sweet guy, totally had my heart. I pined after him for years, but never said a word.
After college, I joined Peace Corps. Went to Bolivia. As I arrived with a decent level of fluency in Spanish, I started going out and dating immediately. Volunteers, locals, whoever. It was incredibly fun. I went out dancing every other night, made great friends, and met my first husband. I probably wasn't ready to get married, but I couldn't imagine life without him.
He is a lovely, warm person. After 8 or so years of being together, we just weren't good as a couple anymore. I love him too much, as a friend, to explain why here. Our friendship is still one of my most important relationships. I will say that with him, I grew up. Our relationship turned me into an adult. I learned that even though I tried as hard as I could, I couldn't fix or control everything. I learned that two people who love each other can't necessarily make a marriage work. I was bitterly disappointed when we split up, and it took me almost two years before I could begin dating again.
And I dated, and dated, and then met R. And the rest is history.
I wish I knew where I went wrong.
I'm saying make a list. Include your first husband's great qualities. The great qualities that you found in Ricky. Make sure to include the things you don't want, too.
ReplyDeleteDid I ever tell you I spent five years working on why I married my first husband? Like, seriously, why? We weren't part of an arranged marriage, it wasn't a great love, I wasn't pregnant. And yet I did it anyway. I didn't seek counseling, so it took me a lot longer to work things out with myself than it might have, but I know the answers now. Your answers are there, too.