The Husband

Before I give free reign to all the thoughts I have on The Husband and marriage in general, I thought I’d share some of the history.

The Husband and I met at work and started dating when I was eighteen. He was my first serious boyfriend, my first real love, my first you know (insert twitchy wink here).

It wasn’t long before he accepted a promotion and moved up north. When he asked me to go with him, I said yes. Much to the shock of everyone around me. And I couldn’t blame them.

At stupid-years-old, and after only having dated for six months, we moved away together. Seven hours from where I had been born and raised. Seven hours away from the only family and friends I had ever known.

And it was a crazy first year. To say the least, I was nowhere near ready to move in with anybody and I believe that long ago decision plays a huge part in our relationship today. But I’ll explain more about that later.

The Husband and I lived together for eighteen months before he proposed, and exactly one year later, we were married in a small ceremony in Las Vegas. It was shortly after that we relocated back to southern California.

November will see our fifth anniversary and someone recently said to me, “Five years? You don’t see that very often.” Five years seems like such a short time, I didn’t realize we had reached a significant milestone.

The Husband is eleven years older than me, another fact that plays a huge part in why our relationship is the way it is. See, our marriage is far from perfect and, lately, we’ve experienced our fair share of problems. I think most of it can be chalked up to the fact that I was too young, too inexperienced, to make a decision like marriage when I was only twenty. I didn’t know myself nearly well enough.

But, overall, he’s a good man. He wants to take care of me, protect me, and see me happy. And despite us having very few things in common, we get along and enjoy spending time together.

I’m hoping this blog will provide a much needed outlet for the thoughts and feelings I just don’t feel comfortable sharing with the people around me.

Update June 5, 2013: This post makes me want to barf. But I’m going to keep it and deal with my past mistakes (both in life and writing) like a mature adult. By drinking excessively. (Kidding.) (Mostly.)

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