My son just turned 10, which means he’s just a few years away from being a teenager. If that isn’t enough to make me just a little bit queasy, I just realized the other day that he is only four years away from being the age my husband and I were when we met.
Yep, we were 14 years old when we met and had our first date. We broke up a few months later, but got back together a year later, when we were 15, and have been together ever since. When I think of my son meeting his actual freaking wife in a just a few short years, my first reaction is HELL TO THE NO. And yet, I would be a total hypocrite if I didn’t think it was possible for such a thing to happen and end up being truly wonderful and amazing.
Of course, I’m not talking about him getting married at 15, and I’m sure that neither my parents nor my husband’s believed we’d end up staying together all these years either. I mean, when we were teens, my husband and I fantasized about the idea of getting married and having kids someday (I think that’s typical of a lot of young lovebirds), but we definitely thought that was the stuff of fairy tales.
And yet, here we are. We’ll be celebrating 24 years of continuous dating this fall, and 16 years of marriage this summer. And as crazy as it seems for me to have settled down with pretty much the only person I’ve ever dated (I’m not going to count my middle-school boyfriend who I wasn’t even sure I was officially dating, bless his heart), I absolutely wouldn’t have it any other way.
Our marriage is not perfect (whose is, really?), but it’s damn good, and although many high school romances don’t endure the test of time, there is something about knowing each other since we were basically kids that definitely contributes to the solidity and strength of our marriage.
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