“I went to my room and packed a change of clothes, got my banjo, and started walking down the road. Soon I found myself on the open highway headed east.” (Burl Ives)
Departing for our honeymoon was sort of like that–except #5′s guitar and ukelele remained at home as we headed west!
My wedding had been perfect and absolutely everything I had dreamed it would be. As #5 drove toward our honeymoon destination, try as I might, I could not keep my eyes off him. But not for the reasons you might think.
He talked as he drove, I listened and responded, but I also (discreetly) checked him out. I thought I was being very sneaky about it, but a couple of times #5 stopped talking, looked over at me, smiled and slightly self-consciously (the way you do when someone is staring at you and you can’t imagine why) asked, “What?”
I’d reply, “Nothing. I just can’t believe you’re my husband. I can’t believe I am looking at my husband.” But that wasn’t the entire truth.
After the unexpected life that had become mine, I really couldn’t believe I was married again and that #5 was really my husband. But there was also a part of me that was looking for something else. (Now is where I will probably sound psychotic. But here goes.) I think I was looking for lies.
There was a small part of me (although it got smaller and smaller the longer we were engaged) that feared after loving and trusting #5 enough to marry him, and being unable to see any MAJOR flaws prior to that moment, that as soon as we were married I was suddenly going to be able to see some major red flags or flaws or problems I’d been too blind to discern before. To a small degree, I kept wondering if, or when, he was going to reveal his deep, dark secrets, shatter my world and leave me in a mess, wondering how I was going to pick up the pieces and keep going. Again.
I kept looking to gauge if he looked the same to me, or if he suddenly looked like a stranger now that he was my husband. I attempted to prepare myself for shocking revelations that were coming, so I could handle them the moment they hit and figure out how to help my kids get past them, too.
“It’s like a blind turn on a highway: You can’t see what’s coming, so you don’t really know how to prepare.” (Piper Perabo)
However, nothing came to light. There were no shocking revelations. He just looked totally familiar (and handsome!) to me. In fact, the only unfamiliar thing about him was the shiny metal ring on his left hand that I wasn’t used to seeing! (But I liked seeing it there–I’d never been married to a man who wore a wedding ring.)
So I kept quiet about what I was REALLY thinking–how do you explain serious psychosis like I was having to the man you’ve just married–and pulled myself together during the drive and was over it by the time we arrived at our destination: Las Vegas.
That only left one more fear to face.
My fear of the morning “after.”
More lunacy, coming right up. Tomorrow. Stay tuned.
“And it’s my opinion, and that’s only my opinion, you are a lunatic. Just because there are a few hundred other people sharing your lunacy with you does not make you any saner.” (Oleg Kiseley)