The Ultimate Pinky Swear

"On whom should I lean, if not on you? My wary mind turns for refreshment to the thought of you
as a dusty traveller might sink onto a soft and grassy bank. "  --Gustave Flaubert

We've done everything backwards. Moved in together before we were even dating. Moved to another country together before we were even serious. Went to many a honeymoon destination before we were even engaged. It went something like this:

Met in Istanbul.

One of the first photos of us. Not sure how much we really liked each other at this stage.

Got to know each other in Poland. 

He brought me to my first castle!!

Got serious in China.

Got engaged in Malaysia. Planned  a wedding in Thailand. 

And if all goes as planned, I will be able to say after the summer next year, that we got married in Ireland.

People's lives are  comprised of a series of "Before and After's". Before I went to college and After. Before I had children and After. Before my loved one died and After. Until I met S, my biggest Before and Afters were losing my Dad and moving abroad. For years, I suffered the culture shock and explored the unknown completely alone. I became so comfortable and secure in my independence that I assumed I wouldn't have an "Eat Pray Love" kind of ending to my story. But now it's difficult at times to even remember the Before S.

Actually, I'd always been secretly resigned to never getting married, having never seen a happy one in action on a daily basis. While other girls were fantasizing about walking down flower strewn aisles in princess dresses, I just wanted to be frolicking on a prairie like Laura Ingalls.
 

But there I was in a cheap hostel in Penang, Malaysia, the French guys next door soundly sleeping after a long night session on the bongos, when S asked. And it seemed the most natural, logical, and exciting thing to say, "Yeah, let's."

Another thing I never figured was that being engaged would feel different than "having a boyfriend". I find myself being more protective of and nurturing in this relationship. Even though I know divorce is always an option, and I can leave anytime, I'm invested as if they're not options. I guess it's akin to how a long time renter feels when deciding to buy a house, no?

Protective and nurturing require a bit of selflessness and work. A marriage is a full on English garden, not some Menard's houseplant. I've had to accept that there can be more than one way to hang clothes and wash dishes, that it's polite to listen to synopses of stories involving things about which I'm completely clueless (football, Boardwalk Empire), that it's not all about me anymore.

Learning pitch & putt wasn't as horrible as I expected

Because all that work yields some lovely stuff. If I listen, then later, I have someone to listen to my ramblings. If I cook a nice meal, someone will clean it up after, albeit in a different way than I would have. If I'm supportive, kind, and affectionate, I get the same in return. Not to mention the great stuff like hugs, long talks, laughter, capers, journeys to the unknown. And the best, having one person who knows you completely and still likes you anyway and being that person for another. I know it sounds crazy, self-absorbed, and a wee bit naive, but it's all been a revelation.

We may not have the altruism of George and Mary Bailey, the youthful gaiety of Jack and Rose, the strategic minds of Anthony and Cleopatra, or the musical prowess of Simba and Nala. We don't complete each other. But I can honestly say, we completely love each other.