“I don’t want to hear about the endless struggles to keep sex exciting, or the work it takes to plan a date night. I want to hear that you guys watch every episode of theBachelorette together in secret shame, or that one got the other hooked on Breaking Bad and if either watches it without the other, they’re dead meat. I want to see you guys high five each other like teammates on a recreational softball team you both do for fun. I want to hear about it because I know it’s possible, and because I want it for myself.
I guess I think happiness can come in a bunch of forms, and maybe marriage with tons of work makes people feel happy. But part of me still thinks… is it really so hard to make it work? What happened to being pals? I’m not complaining about romance being dead—I’ve just described a happy marriage is based on talking about plants and a canceled Ray Romano show and drinking milkshakes: not exactly rose petals and gazing into each there’s eyes at the top of the empire state building or whatever. I’m pretty sure my parents have gazed into each others eyes maybe once, and that was so that my mom could put eye drops into my dad’s eyes. And I’m not saying that marriage should always be easy. But we seem to get so gloomily worked up about it these days. In the Shakespearean comedies, the wedding is the end, and there isn’t much indication of what happily ever after will look like day to day. In real life, shouldn’t a wedding be an awesome party you throw with your great pal, in the presence of a bunch of your other friends? A great day, for sure, but not the beginning and certainly not then end of your friendship with a person you can’t wait to talk about gardening with for the next forty years.”