Posts tagged relationship

Most relationships tend to feel like carnival rides, with the ups and downs and whirling about. But as I get to know him, it has been feeling more like one those scrambler-type contraptions where the arms swing out wildly, thrusting the revolving cars in one direction and tossing it wildly back again in the other. When you ride with a friend, you eventually get squashed up against the wall, and while it’s a bit awkward and feels like you might have broken a rib, it’s still lots of fun and you both want to do it again. But in this case, he’s usually riding by himself and I’m the one left standing at the gate, watching as his car swings by and we’re close enough to touch…and then he’s gone again.

It’s like he doesn’t know how to not distance himself times. He forms his everyday conversation with articles and facts because growing up, no one asked him what he thought or how he felt or what he wanted, so it doesn’t even occur to him to talk like that to others. He’ll talk about silly things he’s done and elements of games and shows and books he likes, but never about his life. Never about serious things or sad things or dreams he has for us as a couple…just generic banter about things that interest him. But he doesn’t realize how much he interests me. I want to know about his thoughts and his heart. If I wanted to know what Joe Schmo wrote about such and such, I’d look for it and read it myself. I understand that guys usually aren’t big sharers, but it helps me know he’s aware of things when he goes beyond what he’s read online today. It is a sign he’s thinking of himself and about and us and our future. When you pay attention to the world around you, talking about it should come naturally, and since I know he hasn’t been walking around with his eyes closed for 27 years, I want to hear proof, not secondhand stories!

Which is why dinner surprised me last night. With an odd, uncharacteristic creak, I saw his old shell of facts and articles slipping off his back. He asked me what I thought on a facebook post that was causing controversy, which started up a true conversation, where I talked and he responded, and he talked and I responded.  We discussed religion and our childhood and our views of the world growing up, and after months of talking to an Internet search engine who loved me, I was finally talking to a real live person. He’s done it before, but it’s so rare that it always takes me by surprise and leaves me wanting more.

But it takes a long time for him to trust someone enough to talk like that. He’s like an Ent in more ways than I care to count; slow to talk, slow to decide, slow move, even slow to eat. You’d never think he has ADHD, really. But that’s my husband. He loves me, but he’s been hurt by people he’s loved in the past so I suppose it makes sense that he’s slow opening up. I’ll just have to have patience, ho hurrr, and show him love as much as I can when he gets close—-as he did last night—-so that one day the ride might be able to slow down and I can get on, and we can lovingly crush one another’s ribs as we’re flung through life together.

The Dress
I have someone to make my dress! Yay! I’m aiming for something similar in shape to the little one in the middle with a bodice and moss green ribbon like the old one. I have till July 1st to find a pattern that she can use, and while I’m hoping for an old pattern, a new one would be so much easier. To say I’m excited to get started is an understatement…do you suppose you can make a wedding dress in 4 months? (Also, those green shoes don’t actually exist. It is a tragedy.)

$600 Betty Crocker Sugar Flowers.
The idea that one can spend $635 on consumable cake that is usually so dry and, well, unconsummable, that you don’t want to eat another piece is the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard. Honestly, I’m surprised more brides don’t get rugburns when their husbands cram the stuff in their face.

…Which takes us to Cake Affairs. I have never heard of the place, but I went to a wedding in January and the cake was so good, I actually continued to consume this cake, even to the point of standing in line to get another piece with cousins and aunts that I’d prefer to only see on major holidays. It is expensive, but this is something I want you to eat. This is something I want to eat. Also, they’re just gorgeous! My grandma has agreed to take care of the cake, but do I really want to break her bank or just get something pretty and passable? It is a dilemma, to be sure.

Premarital Counseling in the Facebook Age.
We found out last night that my church’s idea of premarital counseling involves taking a paid online compatibility test and talking a little bit with the pastor on some Saturday. This is both a great relief and somewhat inadequate. This is our future we’re talking about…I was hoping for something more in depth that might go beyond taking a Chemistry.com Newlywed match game. But oh well. It’s non-invasive. That works for me.
 
Wedding video=Vacation Video.  
I went to house church last night and the leader’s wife, who is my age, asked us if anyone wanted to watch her wedding video from January (yeah, the cake wedding.) We all thought about this and it occurred to me that most people who have to sit through your wedding once will not want to do it again, no matter how pretty it is. It’s on par with someone’s nice vacation footage, essentially. That being said, who the heck do I know that does videography for cheap?

Relationship Issues
I had a long post planned about our relationship issues, but I’ve decided not to bore you terribly with the details. Let’s just say the past weekend was a mess. I was crying every 4 minutes, Dan was distant and I thought the whole thing was falling apart at the seams. Last night, we had a couch session and Dan finally told me his reason for being distant, and while it sounds a bit farfetched, it was rather sweet and I feel good about all of this again. Which is good. Because this is a wedding blog that ultimately requires a wedding at the end.

In conclusion, I’d just like to state that men are impossible enigmas and I’m marrying the worst one ever. Oh, my silly blonde milkman-not-milkman.