Marriage Subscription Renewed

Subscriptions are like buttholes. Everyone has them. Except Kim Jong Un. He has no butthole. Look it up. It’s North Korean science, ya dingus. I digress. Anyone reading this likely subscribes to something. My high ass thought of marriage as a subscription. Amanda and I recently celebrated 8 of our illustrious 15ish year-long relationship hitched. I love the ever-loving SHIT out of my wife. If you don’t believe me, random reader, that’s of no concern to me. Because she knows it. She re-subscribed to another year of mawwiage to my ass.

This subscription may impact her:

- Finances

- Emotions

- Physical health

- Mental health

- Life expectancy

She’s hedged her bet the good will outweigh the bad. It’s my job to deliver on that bet. That’s what all relationships come down to. Faith in someone’s ability to give as much, if not more, than they take. We’ve all known Takers. They’re dicks.

I've spent 15 of my 33 years alive loving and admiring Amanda. Over the past 17 years, we’ve grown into adults together. 8 years parenting/molding the coolest kid to walk this mud ball as a team. We’ve forged bond after bond with each hardship. Deaths, births, depression, copious amounts of anxiety. We’ve leaned on each other, being a safe harbor when teary clouds rolled in. We are each other’s rock (ROCK AND STONE!) to cling onto when life punches you in the mouth.

What I’m trying to say is:

I’m one lucky son of a biscuit

Much like all relationships, ours bloomed from a single choice. That one choice led to a million more choices. The way I view the story, the choice was mine. But it was only an option after Amanda had made a choice of her own.

We were sharing a hotel room with 5 or so other work friends after Halloween Horror Nights. I was sleeping on a cheap ass Holiday Inn couch while Amanda had herself a queen size. I’m pretty sure it was a queen size. Coulda been smaller. Let’s imagine it was a twin size for shits and grins. Amanda, in her infinite well of selflessness, offered to share her now twin sized bed. Her choice. I spit out a, “Hell yes.”. My choice. Well, one thing led to another and…we ended up:

Giggling and Gossiping until 4 AM

Yeah, that’s right, I said it! She gossiped me so good, then I giggled her curled toes straight. It was electric. We both knew what was happening but couldn’t resist the urge to keep sharing ourselves to one another. Wall rattling snores or half-conscious passive aggressive grunts of annoyance couldn't deter us. There were about 3 moments when we looked at each other when we both wanted to smooch. Amanda and I were less than bible-width apart, more like Old Testament apart. We restrained our horny little monkey brains that night. instead, we dug into each other's past and present relationships. This was the night of October 13th, 2008. Luckiest moment in my life.

There’s so much unsaid here. But that’s ok too.

Love you, Amanda!!!

-Dave