high school sweethearts

my parents met in tenth grade, in 1968. my mother was a do-gooder smart kid with a rebel streak; my daddy was an underachieving smart-aleck more interested in his music than being part of the mainstream. (he only participated in his high-school graduation because his grandfather asked him to.) though they had ups and downs, breakups and reunions, throughout their relationship, they were loyal to each other until her mental illnesses got to be too much for both of them.

i used to think that there was no way that you should ever settle down with someone you dated in high school. 'course, i settled down with the boy i met the first day of college, and well, you know how well that worked out. i basically made myself a hypocrite of the first order there, but i also kinda proved my rule. you don't know anywhere near enough about yourself when you're seventeen years old to have any idea what you're going to need when you're twenty-seven. god knows, i thought, i'm living proof of that.

but then something hit me today as i was playing around on facebook. i've had quite a few friends who've married and divorced since high school, just like me. some of them are on to second relationships, and a couple are on to second marriages. and a very significant number of these people have gone on to date and marry people they knew and cared about in high school. i'm one of them. i met the man in tenth grade, in 1996. i was a do-gooder smart girl; he was a slightly underachieving smart-aleck more interested in his computers and his politics than being part of the mainstream. hmm.

maybe there's a little something more to this whole initial instinct thing than i once thought. i mean, lord knows it's not a hard and fast rule. i'm learning quickly that there is absolutely no such thing as a hard and fast dating rule. anyone who tells you otherwise is selling something, and something that will do nothing good for you. but there's an immeasurable comfort in having someone near you who knows you so thoroughly, so completely, that there aren't any surprises. you don't have to work as hard, be something or someone you're not. all i have to do is love him.

so the whole high-school sweetheart thing, maybe all it needs is a little revision. go out, see the world, learn yourself... and then, at the end of the day, you just might find what you needed in the first place you thought to look. i know i did.

congratulations?

it's such a strange thing. as i go through the administrative changes related to my new-old name, my new-old identity. every time i sign a paper, visit an office or chat with a clerk, the conversation ends with one word that increasingly strikes me as a strange reaction to the nature of the business at hand:

"congratulations!"

now, don't get me wrong. having this done is certainly something worth celebrating. i am thrilled to the gills to be on my way to resetting my life. but, really, isn't that such a weird thing to say to someone? it's not like this is such a pleasant undertaking. the end of a marriage is never pretty. it's rough around the edges at best and harrowing, bloody, acrimonious at worst.

but then again, maybe it's not so weird. on louis c.k.'s fabulous new album hilarious, there's a routine about his recent divorce that made me laugh way harder than i thought i ever would. first off, the man is absolutely killer funny. but more importantly, he said perhaps the most bluntly true thing i've ever heard in my life, and it was just what i needed at that moment: "divorce is always good news. i know that sounds weird, but it's true, because no good marriage has ever ended in divorce. it's really that simple."

holy hell, talk about finding wisdom in unexpected places. the reason i am no longer married to the ex is because our marriage was bad. bing, bang, boom. the event hurts, it feels awful. but i am in so much of a better place than i was one year ago today. i feel free. i'm happy as hell, right down in my core, the short-term pain of recent events notwithstanding. the divorce, really, was good news.

so yeah, clerks/registrars/assorted other government-agency minion people. congratulations it is.

liminal

liminal. adjective. 1) pertaining to a threshold or entrance; 2) relating to a beginning or the first stage of a process.

being the chronic examiner of my past that i am, i've spent a huge amount of time thinking about the moments in my life that have tripped switches, triggered changes and started me on various paths. more often than not, these examinations have started in the midst of crises or problems, usually focused on, "my god, how did i get here?" kinds of inquiries. really fun, let me tell you.

but not this time. not even close. this time, my liminal moment is... well, intriguing. interesting. my curiosity is piqued beyond belief. such a small thing - words exchanged on a sticky summer night - but oh, so fraught with options. the best kind of options at that: the kind without expectations, rules, etc. all i need to do, all i feel compelled to do, is to ride the wave and watch this unfold.

so. many. possibilities. i can't wait to see what happens next. the threshold's crossed. what's on the other side?