Less than 5 minutes after we met her, even she was deceived: ‘you two were meant for each other.’
We get that a lot. I was made for Tommy. Tommy was made for me. Everyone tells us. We find this quite amusing, really. In the seclusion of marriage we are the only ones who disagree.
A week away from our anniversary, I look back on the last two years and recall the landmines we clumsily tripped upon the first year and the tedious removal of shrapnel in the second. Like bulls in each others china shops, it was as though we were actually meant to destroy each other.
I spent a good portion of that first year believing I was with the wrong person because I believed marriage was about finding the right person (as if looking for a spouse is like looking for shoes?) Nothing fits like a bull in a china shop.
2 years later, these two clumsy beasts have destroyed all the china (and the shop.) The weird thing is, now that we’ve broken everything, we finally see each other. Stripped away of the fragile, it’s just the two of us, standing on shattered piles of useless things we had tried to keep.
I look back on the mess we left behind. All those things I had feared to lose now lying in heaps, impossible to mend.
I feel free. I feel joy. Good riddance.
Now that it’s all broken, we don’t have to be careful anymore. We can just be us. No hindrances. No more obsessing over things that don’t really matter. Just two people, rough around the edges, laughing at how messy it all is and how much we didn’t know. Glad to be rid of all that stupid china. Glad to be together. Glad to know Gods’ grace when we were so lacking of it for ourselves.
I needed someone to be totally wrong for me in order to become right.
It’s not that we were MADE for each other.
We were BEING made.
We ARE being made.
We are in the making.