I am going to tell you all something that may make you question my choice in life mate. Don’t worry, I did receive full disclosure before accepting his ring, and have come to terms with his past. We don’t speak of it, but in the interest of being true to my art, I will bring it up just this once, if you promise never to refer to it again.
Darlin played Dugeons and Dragons in high school.
And beyond.
Lest you think I write this to imply that he was a dork and I would have been too cool to associate with him, let me give you this tasty tidbit about my past: I used to sing in class. Sing. In class.
In high school.
As you can see, this is a post that lends itself to short, incredulous sentences that stand alone as paragraphs.
This.
Is for two reasons.
Reason the first – I want you to understand that we were pretty un-cool. To really feel the uncool-ness wafting over you from the screen. To sprout braces and cowlicks and pimples and awkward-limbed movements just from READING this stuff.
Reason the second – I want you to know that I am very cool now, extremely cool, and thereby I must distance my current cool self from my past, very un-cool self, by making fun of her. Just like the bullies in high school used to do.
So maybe I’m cool now, but not as nice.
Anyhow.
None of these meanderings are getting us any closer to answering the question at hand, which is: would I have dated my husband in high school? And I want you to know that, even taking into consideration the D&D information plus other vital but top secret stuff that I’ve learned about my husband’s high school persona (coff long swoopy hair coff coff), it has been made abundantly clear after years of associating with my husband and his high school friends that no, no we wouldn’t have dated. Because I don’t think even my D&D Darlin’ could have seen as far down into the bottom of the dating pit as I was, buried under all the cute girls and the sort of cute girls and the not-cute but really awesome girls – singing to myself there about as far back in the corner as I could get.
We met when we were supposed to. Years after the braces, yes, and after I learned about eyebrow waxing and this thing called a hair comb – but more to the point, after years during which I dated good men and bad ones, and learned what I needed and what I could do without, what I absolutely could not stand and what I could put up with. And through those years he did the same.
A guy I very briefly dated just out of high school once looked at me and said “Every single relationship I have been in so far has been a failure.” And I responded – Well of course. Of course. That’s how you learn! Most people don’t stick with the first person they love. They love and lose and learn and love again. Every one of my early relationships was also a failure. Every one of your relationships is SUPPOSED to be a failure!
Until you find the one that isn’t.