24, 25 or 26 years depending

We've been married for 24, living together for 25 and have been in a relationship for 26 years. Today is the anniversary of our marriage. I've known Al for half my life, oddly enough.

It's a good marriage. Not one of those fairy-tale "happily ever after" ones, but not one of those "existing in the same space but not really a couple" types of marriages either. Much closer to the former than the latter. It's not been easy. Neither Al nor I are easy people to live with - our angles and curves have been formed by a lot of hurt, a lot of withdrawal and a lot of introspective introversion. That means that when we clash, we tend to misunderstand, mishear and interpret words in the worst way possible, then go off and sulk in our separate caves.

He's a guy - when things get hot & heavy, he gets cold & rational, emotionally withdrawn and analytical. I get ballistic and yell and cry and stomp around slamming doors and walking out until I cool off, at which point I'm willing to discuss things rationally.

But he's funny, he's quiet, he's strong, and he believes in me. He's dependable, responsible, loyal and steadfast. He hangs in there no matter how wild the ride gets, and it's gotten pretty wild over the years. I've hung in no matter how grumpy and bumpy it's gotten, and it's gotten pretty bumpy at times. Really grumpy too.

Over the 24, 25 or 26 years we've been together, we've built something that is bigger than both of us - and I don't mean just the family, either. We've built a union that neither of us would be happy without, and that has come to be worth all the love, the laughter, the joy and the sorrow and anger we've put into it, and then some.

A bunch of years ago we were at a low point - we were at that "we're sharing space in the same house but we aren't really a couple" points that some marriages get to and never recover from. I had decided that that wasn't enough to split up over - it wasn't abuse, it wasn't addiction, it wasn't adultery. I could stay there for the kids and in the faint, distant hope that things might someday improve. And they did. To this day, I'm foggy about how, or when, or why, but it did. We have low points still, but none as low as that - and I'm never going to let it get that low again.

After all this time, yes, I still love him. More, I respect him, think well of him and enjoy spending time with him. He' s not my best friend. I have two best friends, and they're both women. He can't be my best friend, he's my husband! But that means he's close to me in ways even my best friends can't be, and he knows more about me than any other living person - including my priest. Besides, if he were my best friend, then I couldn't bitch about him to him when he ticks me off!

It's been worth it, it will keep getting better I think, and it's not going to end. I'm happy.