And so, it happens…

Gof and I have been together for just over two years now. We have never had a serious argument, never gone to bed angry, never lied or hid something from each other. It hasn’t always been easy – in fact, it has NEVER been easy, our blossoming relationship was hit by my eviction from Tarfside Oval, and continued on through hostels I had to stay in, a private flat I couldn’t afford (to get OUT of said hostels), staying with friends (and the hassles that produced), back into a hostel, until now, I’m becoming more settled in an amazing flat I still can’t quite believe is mine.

I’ve tried so many times to break it off. Not because I don’t love him – but because I do. Life with me, and for me, hasn’t been easy for such a long time, and I hated putting him through that. Never knowing where I was sleeping that night, or worse, knowing I had to go back to a hostel (as much as the last one was great, and I appreciate everything they did for me there… it’s still a hostel), never having enough money to eat, travel, live – well, mood swing Central! Poor Gof couldn’t ever predict whether I would be full of the joys of spring, hopeful and positive things would get better, or so depressed that nothing was ever going to go right ever, so I may as well give up. I hated doing that to him. I hated myself.

But he never gave up on me. On us. Never walked away, although lord knows I gave him plenty of ammunition, plenty of reasons to run from the monster I was being. I wouldn’t have blamed him. I always thought he deserved better. Still do, really. Now I know he does, simply because he refused to leave me. He has such strength, and so much love and compassion, and I am absolutely certain he deserves better.

So will be better. I am, already getting there. Instead of telling myself to break it off because he deserves better, I am telling myself to become that person he should have. Already the decision has impacted our lives. He sees how happy and settled I feel. Despite all the issues in our lives, our relationship on it’s own has never left the honeymoon state, and now, that feeling has deepened into something more. It’s nothing I can explain, but we both feel it. It’s settled, full of joy, lusty, wow moments, giggles, serious conversations, and comfort. It’s more than that. It’s absolutely life-changing.

Since the 24th of November, 2009, I have been in a flat I can afford, a beautifully appointed, clean, blank canvas of a house I am slowly, but carefully making a home. But not just any home. I am making a home for us. Gof doesn’t live with me as of yet, but I already want, not.. need, to make this a home we’ll both know is ours. After all, it’s only a matter of time, and as much as I can’t wait for the day his post arrives at mine, we are being very careful – we’ve both lived with people before, and I know there is mistakes I made I don’t want to repeat, so I guess he does too.

We’ve already laid out each of our bottom lines. I want a home with antique furniture, he wants somewhere to hang his band posters. I want the hall to look like a mini gallery, full of my friend’s artwork, he wants a display case to show off his collector’s items. We both want each of our wages to remain our own, but split the household bills 50/50 in a joint account. There’s more, of course, but basically, we are happy with the choices we’ve made for our co-habitation!

I’ve never seen the point of getting married. The marriages I grew up seeing? Well, they left a lot to be desired, and a bitter taste in my mouth. People either despairing of or despising each other, but forced to grow old together because divorce just “wasn’t the done thing”. Staying together for the kids, when those kids grew up thinking a relationship was supposed to be like that, falling into loveless, abusive relationships themselves and calling it love. Or if there was a divorce, the pain and hate of the failure, seeping into the core of a person until all that’s left is bitching about who should pay for what and fighting over the kids/dogs/DVD’s. And weddings? No thanks! Spending yourselves into debt you’ll be paying off the rest of your natural, to make sure you have the perfect dress, venue, buffet, band, reception yada yada yada….. all that money, and the arguments about flower arrangements, food, bridesmaids (do we really need 12?) – the “happy” couple forget about love and start thinking about wedding presents, a honeymoon in Hawaii, and whether a dress to be worn for a few hours on one day should cost hundreds or thousands.

Screw that. I’m never doing that!

That’s what I’ve said for years. I didn’t get it, didn’t want to, didn’t need to. I am happy knowing he loves me and I love him. It’s true.

But now.. something’s changed. I realise now that I don’t care about a big cookie cutter wedding, bridesmaids and all that hoopla. What I care about, is saying, in front of people we both care about, that I love him with all my heart and I don’t see that changing. I want to grow old, his hand in mine, and find out what life has in store for us. I want to celebrate that we, together, got through this bad time, and together, we can do anything.

So yeah, I am doing that, after all.

We’re getting married.

We’re going to stand together, husband and wife, and walk through life in matching strides, and be always what we mean to each now.

I fell hard for this man. Hook, line and sinker. And the most amazing part? He fell the same for me.

I’m the luckiest girl in the world.

One thought on “And so, it happens…

  1. Pingback: Marry me, we said… | Cake & Hot Tease

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