Ran across this column on the web and it spoke to me ("Jake" writes for Glamour magazine. "Blossoms" is his wife.). Enjoy...
I was Jake (now I'm married)
You may remember me. I was the old Jake—a tortured, always equivocating bachelor with lots of opinions about what women should and shouldn't do. I am still basically the same;except now I'm hitched, and I'm writing a new weekly column about married life. Check in every week for my uncensored thoughts on everything from married sex to sharing a closet with my shoe junkie wife.
Blossoms gets her male-associated behavior on
"I want a divorce day," Blossoms said to me this afternoon over lunch. I was giving her a hard time about how I felt like she always freaked out if I dropped a sock on the floor, but never noticed if she left a mess around the house.
"You what?" I said.
"I want a divorce day!"
She started laughing. Then I started laughing. All of a sudden I felt totally superior to everyone else sitting at the restaurant, all the conventional unimaginative couples who could never say to each other, "I want a divorce day!" She was saying it's normal to feel like, God, do I have to spend the rest of my life dealing with you and your socks? I need a break! And by acknowledging that we both had that thought, we bonded. God, I loved her at that moment. Is that strange?
"What would you do with your divorce day?" I ask.
"I would go shopping and get into serious credit card debt and not stuff everything I just bought in the bottom of the closet to hide it from you!"
"Well," I said, "you have a divorce day. Get your ass out there and buy a $900 pair of shoes."
"OK," she said. "But will you come with me?"
That, my friends, is marriage at its best.