If you met the love of your life in high school and got married and now you live on a beautiful farm in Conneticut with your three beautiful, above average intelligence children... Oh yeah, anad if the hubby's home every evening from work by five-thirty and a hot, made-from-scratch dinner is on the table at seven... then you aren't the minority I'm with anymore.
I was once... or so I thought. I thought I'd marry Julie and we'd live mostly happily ever after. Jeez... At least I knew the reality that everything wasn't going to be peaches 'n cream with our "unique" relationship...
When we're sixteen, seventeen, eighteen... We think nothing can touch us. We think the person we're with now is the love of a lifetime and we'll stay together forever.
You always hear the love stories of high school sweethearts.... Not the couple who met when they were twenty-five and twenty-six... dated for a year... and then got married.
Those high school sweethearts... they're a severe minority.
And when you're sixteen, seventeen, eighteen.... You think you can make it. You think you'll be an exception to the rule. You think nothing can touch you. You think, "No matter what... we'll stay together."
Sorry, kiddies... That just isn't too realistic, now is it?
And I've realized that. And it sucks. I liked living in FantasyLand for a while... It's a nice place to visit... but I wouldn't want to live there.