Sometimes, always, never. This is the rule that applies to men's three-button suit jackets. It is the one thing I remember from when my husband and I were getting married in March 2005. More than our vows, the lovely cards we received from friends, or the music we danced to -- I remember from among our search for a wedding suit for my husband, that the top button is sometimes buttoned; the middle always; and the bottom never.
As we celebrate eight years of married life together, I think of all that we have embraced, conquered, mastered, destroyed and learned to live with. We celebrate what we have built, and acknowledge how much we put in.
Sometimes, it is better to walk away than to stay and fight. I have learned this from my husband. I would fight all night. He will walk away and cool off. Sometimes, a little distance, a stroll, a call to a friend, or a few minutes sitting in a cold car parked on the street can do more good than all the explanations in the world.
Always, we have to laugh. Nothing reminds me of why I married this man more than when he can make me laugh after hours of fighting and crying. His humor is offensive, ridiculous, unexpected. I bite my lip trying so hard to not laugh. It is always what I need.
Never is a hard one. Because we break all those rules. We go to bed angry. We begin sentences with "You always..." and "I hate when you..." We accuse, and we blame. We bring up the past. We are not good at never. But never do we take for granted our luck in being together; our desperation for staying together; our inspiration in our children, to keep doing this.
Sometimes the old rules apply; always we make our own. Never do we regret the moments in which we have revealed our most peculiar selves.
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