Happy Valentine's Day!

Published February 14, 2009

I have two true loves, I’ve decided.

One isn’t enough. 

And you know, in Europe, they don’t expect your husband or wife to fulfill all your needs, or to be your everything -- and I don’t think they should be. I have two loves, for two very different needs, and I think that’s as it should be.

I adore my husband, and he loves me, and I couldn’t ask for a better partner through life. He’s my best friend, and a fabulous guy in general, and an amazing father. He’s funny, and he’s solid as a rock, and I never, ever have to worry about him.  I don’t worry about whether he loves me ( he does.) I don’t worry about whether he’s going to do what he says (he does. Always.) And I don’t worry about whether he comes home on time, or whether he’s going to call and see what’s going on at home, or still thinks I’m cute. He does.

But.

He’s a guy. A man’s man. A guy’s guy. He likes barbecue. His favorite meal is chocolate cake and beer. He couldn’t name three cheeses if you paid him. He. Will. Not. Go. Antiquing. Ever.

He likes Van Damme (or maybe it’s Van Diesel...)  movies and The Real World and Jackass! He does not always want to hear the drama in my family that goes back three generations and needs to be re-analyzed every three months or so to see where the latest psychotic breaks from reality in which family member are traced back to which trauma.

And he will not engage in long discussions about Harry Potter with me.

So. He does the laundry. He’s gorgeous to look at. Good in bed. Laughs at my jokes. Has no sense of smell, which is a huge plus if you have to sleep in the same room with my feet. Loves red hair and big curves (we’d be in trouble if he had a thing for skinny brunettes.)

Adores our kids. Listens to everything I say and takes me seriously. So all of his faults can be overlooked, but you know, sometimes I still need to talk about Hermione, dammit!

And this is where Christy comes in.

She loves antiquing. She will putter. She will discuss my mother’s trauma, and my sister’s quirks, and will remember why my sister has her quirks in the first place. She knows everyone in my family. I have known her since she was 18 and I was 22. Mark was the interloper in our relationship!

Christy is funny, and bright, and reads as much as I do, which is saying a lot.

She doesn’t mind me calling her four times a day to say, “Did you read this article?” and “My son is irritating me,” and “I wish I could take up heroin.”

She calls me, too, to say, “And what do you think about THIS?” or “I feel a rant coming on....”

And she finally has a baby, thank God, so she gets it.

She could name nine kinds of cheese in her sleep. She would not watch a Van Damme movie if you paid her.  And she has an ultra-developed, super-sense of smell, which made her a very, very bad match for my feet. We could not live together anymore, I don’t think. We’re too used to being in charge of a household. But man, I sure like to talk to her.

She will talk about Hermione’s parents and why there were in Australia, she knows about the Edward vs. Jacob controversy, and if you asked her why Elizabeth Bennet married Darcy, even after he dissed her family, she could tell you. Mark has no idea who Darcy is. None. And I’ve told him the story three times, at least.

Christy is frugal, sensible and tough. I am none of those things. She’s organized and efficient and she’s as smart as I am, which is also saying a lot.

So, to the two people who have traveled the furthest with me down this path so far, I wish you a very happy Valentine’s Day!

Comments

[Laura]

This is so sweet Meagan! I hope that Christy frames it as a testament to your friendship!