December 19, 2004, I got married.
December 19, 2011, I wrote a blog entry.
A lot happened in those 7 years. I was happily married for, uh, four-ish, of those years, maybe. (Longer than Britney Spears, so there’s that.) Then there was a divorce, and that wasn’t all that much fun. (Brit and I have that in common, am I right?!) The point is to live and learn from such experiences, yeah? I’m fairly sure I did.
I’m not even going to take this opportunity to bash the situation in any way or form. Weird, I know.
So, on this anniversary of my failed marriage, I’ve done some reflecting…
Whether you’re one of my best friends, or maybe just a stranger next to me at the bar after I’ve had one too many beers, you’ve probably heard me say something like “I’m never getting married again!”, but did I really mean that? I’m not sure that I did. I don’t really have a beef with marriage, just how mine turned out. I can spout off marriage/divorce statistics all day long (after I Google them from a credible source, of course), but that fact is that when you’re in love, you don’t think you’re going to fail.
That’s the crappy part about it all (or maybe that’s the cool part). I didn’t go into a marriage thinking I was going to fail, I honestly thought I had it all figured out. And maybe the fact that my heart is a little less broken these days, is directly related to me being able to (somewhat) fathom (maybe) being that optimistic about someone not stomping on my heart again… one day.
Calm down, Mom, I don’t really have anyone in mind.