"There are three possible parts to a date, of which at least two must be offered:
entertainment, food, and affection.
It is customary to begin a series of dates with a great deal of entertainment, a moderate amount of food, and the merest suggestion of affection. As the amount of affection increases, the entertainment can be reduced proportionately. When the affection IS the entertainment, we no longer call it dating.
Under no circumstances can the food be omitted."
It's not a typical love story. Maybe it is a typical story of how 50% of marriages turn out in the end, but it's not the fairytale romance that a little girl dreams about, with a perfect prince and a sparkling pink dress. I had hoped for something different. I had hoped for what I see in so many other blogs, and in so many other lives; gushing about how lovely life is, because there's a beautiful relationship to anchor down everything else.
I am not rushing things to finality, to answer those of you who have asked me. I've gotten (wise) advice not to do so, and as I've said (again and again), my heart is still somehow glued haphazardly to Sky's (some days more than others, of course- just like any marriage). As I told a friend recently, it's hard. There are moments when I think it's absolutely impossible to keep us together. We went from never fighting to fighting frequently. We keep trying and failing and trying again.
I completely believe that loving someone has nothing to do with it being good to be with them. They are two very separate things, oftentimes. I also know my heart well enough to know that even forgiveness does not bring forgetfulness, and that bruises like that don't just go away. Everything takes time, no matter which direction I choose.
He asked me the other night if I would be his girlfriend.
When other boys have asked me this question, I've already known what the answer would be, light years before the idea probably occurred to them- heck yes, if I liked the fella, and ehhhh, that isn't going to work, if I didn't. I'd get giddy and excited, or I'd try to soften the blow. What do you say when your husband asks you that?
You say, "I don't know how this is going to go. I don't know what the rules will be. Does that mean we're exclusive? Do you really want me to be your girlfriend?" Or at least, that's what I said.
The concept of dating someone I'm married to and live apart from is more confusing to me than it even is for you. And unfortunately, not a single person is able to give me advice or guidelines for what it entails. I don't understand the logistics, to be quite honest. Do I dress up? Do we hang out with Amelia or do we actually have a traditional, out-to-a-restaurant date? Do I leave a toothbrush on his sink or pack up everything I own at 8 o'clock and say adios? How do we explain this to people, or do we even try? What if we don't work out? What if we break up? Wait...aren't we sort of broken up already?
We attend the same church and we have been going through a few books together- a couples devotional, and a less-serious book of questions (like getting-to-know-you stuff). There is another book being shipped out to us that deals specifically with the problem that got us here, and I look forward to actually work on the root of the problem. That's the only kind of framework we've been able to come up with, and everything else is still very much up in the air. My first instinct is to say no to everything he suggests, because I am afraid to move to quickly.
I know I may get some weak applause for this, but more eye rolls than anything else. I understand this is not ideal.