When I thought about what the bumps would be, I sort of imagined that it would be me picking up Edward's socks and shaking my head with a knowing smile as the camera went in for a tight shot and the 50's housewife music implied that picking up dirty socks is actually a pastime of mine.
What nobody told me is that marriage is hard. Really hard. And that eventually, I would wonder about the structural integrity of those socks and whether they could be used to strangle a spouse. This was shocking.
Murder was not part of the plan. Determining what my specialty would be in a circus act so I could actually run away was not part of the plan. Crying in the shower, breaking my favorite coffee mug, and emptying half a box of tissues in one sitting were not part of the plan.
Where were my dirty socks?!?!?! I wanted a refund.
There have been times in Edward's and my relationship when I truly thought our marriage was over. This was especially true in the beginning. We would have a massive fight complete with yelling, door slamming and if we were really going to the top, somebody would pack a bag. Because how do you recover from that? How do you return to status quo after going after each other like vicious roosters?
These instances were WAY beyond flowers, chocolate or wine. If Edward had tried to fix things with a pretty bouquet, I probably would have been inclined to bathe them in bleach or run them over with my car. FLOWERS. Flowers. After he accused me of all those things. The nerve.
THIS is the dirty little secret about relationships. This is not what your mom whispers in your ear right before you walk down the aisle (although perhaps she should). This is also the point where many people decide that enough is enough and walk away.
Neither Edward nor I grew up in peaceful homes. We were both children of divorce and we both lived in particularly volatile home environments. I honestly can't tell if you if our parents' marriages would have worked if there had been more apologies, more contrition and more willingness to work on personal issues. I don't know. Some people just shouldn't be together.
What I do know is that a lot of people hit that wall... that terrible nasty wall covered in spikes, sarcasm, and already chewed gum. They do not see a way around that wall usually because they "haven't done anything wrong." And so relationships disintegrate.
The reality I stumbled upon like a giant hairy spider in the bathtub is that marriages are MESSY. There will be broken hearts, metaphorical blood, sticky ectoplasm, and a general disarray that cannot be cleaned with any type of Oxy or Sham-Wow product. And the icing on the cake is that cleaning up is a bitch.
I don't know if it's possible to adequately explain all of this to bright and shiny newlyweds. Even if you could articulate it, I suspect it would fall on deaf ears. It's easy to get lost in cake tastings, dress fittings and the knowledge that you will never have to attend another fucking office party ALONE.
In some ways, I feel like the grizzled-missing-a-limb veteran chain smoking in the corner watching the bunny-ear-wearing "freedom fighters" camping on Wall Street. It all seems so ridiculous when you look at the big picture (or compare "the war on the middle class" to the war that took place in the tunnels of Vietnam).
Edward's and my marriage is considerably different now than it was umpteen years ago. There is much less door slamming and yelling. We usually manage to find our way to the couch so that we can at least argue sitting down. We don't always agree on how things went down or if things that were said were inappropriate, but it is far closer to what I imagine "adult conversation" to be. If we really get stuck, I take the issue to my therapist or we go together. We have learned to agree to disagree. And as unsatisfying as it often is, it beats haranguing each other for being "wrong."
He also doesn't really wear socks anymore. Perhaps this was a smart move.
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