Someone recently asked me how life was in Italy, or more specifically, how was the “married” life? And I had to reply with the only sentence I could think of; one that would sufficiently describe how I feel about “married” life (a life I never really thought I would have): “It feels like I’m bragging when I talk about it…that’s how good it is.”
And truly, that’s how good it is.
I spent 23 years of my life in a perpetual state of waiting. I was never a dater, never in the mix of singles and good looking people trying to find someone to make them feel less alone, or a hand to hold, or a person just to pass the time with for now. I was, a term my mom coined just for me and my thoughts on relationships, a “long term thinker.” I didn’t want to date somebody I wasn’t going to marry. Period. And it was true, and much to the chagrin of the part of me that just wanted to be held and kissed right now.
So I think about those times; the times when I thought he didn’t exist; the times I wondered if he would even love me if he did exist; the times when I’d given up on hoping for the romantic-comedy love story I so passionately wanted and I think, “Life…you tricky little devil you…”
Three years ago I “wasted” an afternoon taking a personality test on eHarmony for poo and chuckles and came out with everything I can remember fantasizing about in my love story; the intensity, the awkwardness, the heart-break, the undying love that held the both of us together and then brought us back together and I am speechless. I never actually though it could come true…and now that it has I feel like I’m bragging…
My story might be nothing like the love story you dream up when you’re alone in your head, and that’s okay because this is my dream come true. And every day I am surprised by it, grateful for it and endlessly in awe of it.
I’m not one for bragging, but how can I not?