Once, as my boyfriend of 3 months – now husband of 1.000 years – got out of bed, he farted. Just a wee little friendly passing of gas – but my reaction came promptly: “I REALLY don’t think we should do that kind of thing in front of each other!” I look back at that now and marvel. These days, all gates are wide open. One person is taking a dump while the other is brushing their teeth.
Now, while there is something quite wonderful about really KNOWING your partner, perhaps some things were better left… Mysterious?
In my part of the world, relationships typically go through several phases: First you date, then you move in together, then you get married, then you have some kids. If you survive having little children you may live happily ever after… Sometimes people get divorced on any given stage of the cycle and start over again, but I am young, so in my circle of friends, we haven’t gotten to the divorce-part yet. Give it a couple of years!!
Phase One: Dating
So during the dating-phase, you are trying each other on for size. You make an effort to look good, to smell good – you laugh at his cute little idiosyncrasies. You look in the great big mirror he holds up and you look GREAT! Since you don’t really know each other, your knowledge of each other has great big gaping holes that you both fill out with wonderful things you like. You jump out of bed – totally refreshed and bubbly after two hours of sleep and 6 hours of hot, sweaty SEX…
Phase Two: Moving In Together
In phase two, you figure, that since you’re spending all of your time together anyway, you might as well move in together. You might perhaps decide to paint a bit and move some stuff around and most importantly, you get rid of that leather sofa of his that looks like the hide-donating cow died of psoriasis. You have sex in every room of the place but since the apartment is very small that only means you can lie in bed and grab a bottle of water in the kitchen without getting up.
Phase Three: Getting Married
Then one day, you decide to get married. Now, you have heard a lot of his so-called funny stories before but he is still cute and getting married is the sensible thing to do. Being busy with your careers, oftentimes you just veg out in front of the TV at night wearing sweats and a wife-beater – but, you still go on the occasional date wearing the low-cut thing he likes and fuck-me-heels. In return, he does.
Phase Four: A-gu-gu-gu
The heels worked and now – O-joy!!! – the world can stop the nudge-nudge: You are pregnant! Yes, a cute little baby will arrive soon. So now – with the hormones and the weight-gain and the nausea and feeling sleepy all the time, sex is about as interesting to you as watching paint dry. After circa 9 months you go to the hospital and completely delete YEARS of work. All the time you have spent putting on make-up, shaving various body parts, exfoliating, moisturizing, getting your hair done, dieting, tanning, shopping for that perfect dress that makes your legs look long and your ass small – ALL OF THAT… Gone. Deleted the moment you made him witness you pushing a gooey lump of slimey, bloody cuteness out of your birth canal. But wait. Luckily, men have very short memories and way sooner than you expected, he slides under the covers and creeps WAY over on your side.
What, with the baby nursing every freaking 2nd hour around the clock you can’t be expected to give a flying fuck about HIS needs. You are too tired to even feel guilty about it. One day, it has been 6 months since you last had sex. It isn’t really a day to celebrate so you pass it in silence. Sleep-deprivation is recognized as one of the most brutal means of torture and now you know why. You can’t think, the house is a big, fat mess, you are wearing the same t-shirt you wore last Tuesday, no wait, must have been Monday, you recognize the stain of that frozen lasagna you forgot in the oven, so it burned, but you just scraped the top-layer off and ate the rest.
Now these cute little idiosyncrasies of his turn out to simply be him, being an idiot!
Phase Five: And Life Goes On…
After a year or so of surviving the Babe, you occasionally catch a glimpse of each other’s eyes in the reflection of the TV-screen. Or he remembers your anniversary and you clean up and go out and have dinner. He smiles overbearingly as you -automatically – reach over to cut out his food into bite-size morsels. As the baby sleeps through, you get yourself back. You start seeing friends again.
If you find a man who worships the quicksand you walk on… Keep him. Just shut the door to the bathroom. Keep some things… Mysterious…
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