The Crypt Keeper

I have been rather cryptic lately, and I apologize. I've been nervous about letting it all out - my mother reads this blog. And the last last last thing I want her saying is "I told you so." (Or, y'know, sending some horrible missive about how I'm getting what I deserve.)

It's no secret that my husband and I met and quickly realized we were right for each other. Kismet. Soul mates. The joke is that neither of us was really ready to be responsible enough for marriage. Not that it stopped us - oh, no! We got married and thought it would straighten us out.

Ehhh, it didn't. Not that I would want to do it any other way... but it would be nice if my husband - of nearly 30 - had had a car payment before our joining. It would have been nice if I didn't massive trust issues. It would have been nice if my husband was ready to be an adult. We both have some growing up to do. Again, ehhhhh. Who knew marriage would cause my FIRST GRAY HAIRS? Plural people, plural.

My husband and I separated on Christmas night. We did it with the goal that we would figure out why we kept driving our marriage into a ditch. We did it with the hope that as we retreated to our safe corners, our epic love affair would sustain us. We prayed it wasn't, in fact, an epic fail.

And you know what, I love my husband. Heart my husband. Lurve my husband. And he feels the same way about me. This separation thingy is rockin' like gang busters. Yes, it sucks that we live across town. Yes, it sucks that we're still figuring stuff out. Pretty sure we're always going to do that.

But unlike some folks who separate, we realized that we liked each other... a lot, maybe even more than we realized. We're either crazy (totally likely), or we're crazy-in-love (uh oh uh oh oh), or we're a great story that's still being written.

So, my mom can be right. We're going to keep trying. And it's going to be one hell of a story.