How To Find What You Came Here For

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Monday, August 29, 2011

Ever After


You know that fairy tale?  The one where the beautiful but lonely girl (who may or may not know she’s really a princess), meets the wonderfully handsome and charismatic man (who definitely knows he’s a prince), and they fall in love at first sight?

Yeah.  That wasn’t us.
Hubby and I met through a mutual friend in college (hi there, AmyBeth!).  She’d convinced me that offering to play a role-playing game with a group of guys was an awesome way to meet…well…guys! 

Of course, turns out they were guys who mostly didn’t have much experience with girls, so I became one of the guys, which was fine with me.  I loved our group—funny, creative, intelligent, and most of all…kind.  We played late into the night, and occasionally straight through the night.  At the end of those all-nighters, we’d head over to the cafeteria in our slippers and have breakfast together.  

xkcd - http://xkcd.com/



It was during one of our group’s marathon gaming sessions that Hubby, who was not yet the love of my life…killed me.

And to make things worse, he did it during one of the few sessions I didn’t attend.  So I died in absentia, so to speak, with no opportunity to do anything to prevent it.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, one of the basic tenets of our group was that our characters didn’t get killed off.    We worked hard on those characters; we created back stories for them and played according to their motivations even when it wasn’t in the character’s best interest.  I suppose any writer can understand the affection we’d developed for our characters—they were our alter egos, in a lot of ways.

And he killed mine.

In his defense, it was an accident.  A simple, but fatal, math mistake.

Once it was discovered what he’d done he was extremely contrite, but the damage was done.  He’d killed off the very first character I’d ever created.

I did forgive him…eventually.  There were other games, other campaigns, other characters.

He was engaged to my best friend.  I was engaged to his best friend. 

Then he wasn’t. 

And I wasn’t.

I liked him, but I wasn’t really thinking about him that way.  He was my gaming buddy—one of the guys, just like me.

Then he stopped by my apartment to visit one day, just like he’d done so many times before.  But then, while we were watching TV, he makes his move.  Picture it with me:

Huge yawn…

Both arms stretch over his head…

And when the arms come down, one just happens to come down across my shoulders.

*snort*

Yeah.  Classic, right?

There is no defense against that kind of sweet dorkiness.

I didn’t make it easy for him, though.  A co-worker suggested that he dump me after I’d sent out a series of mixed messages.  For reasons that still escape me, Hubby decided I was worth a little more effort.  We invited his helpful co-worker to our wedding…he didn’t come.

We’ve been married for nineteen years and it’s never been a fairy tale.  But then again, who wants the fairy tale, really?

I’ll take real life…warts and all...ever after.

Hey look...it's xkcd again!  http://xkcd.com/




This post is a response to a prompt from Write On Edge to write a memoir piece about our experience with someone else.   The single person I have spent the most time with, is my eternally patient Hubby.  I'm still glad he's not a prince, and I'm especially glad he's never wanted me to be a princess!  Thanks for stopping by - I appreciate all your comments!