minor catastrophes

Shawn and me (The pasty-white couple...Is this an ad for sunscreen? Seriously.) backpacking the Black Canyon in Yellowstone National Park, May, 2009.

Shawn and I are friends with a couple who are going through a rough patch and often complain about each other to friends. I have another friend who has been unhappy with her partner from the start of their relationship, yet still hangs on; upset about things he does and doesn’t do.

As Shawn and I were puzzling over these relationships we both came to the same conclusion: These couples don’t seem to even LIKE each other anymore. There might be loyalty, stubbornness, fear or even some form of love keeping them together, but friendship has left the building…or was it never there to begin with?

Early on, when Shawn and I were dating, it hit me that if he and I had met but for some reason weren’t romantically inclined, we would’ve probably been good friends. I just like hanging out with him that much. When I told him this, he smiled slyly, “Yeah, I would’ve been your friend. But I think it’s unlikely I would’ve just been your pal and not wanted to get naked with you at some point.”

Okee-dokee, then. I’ll take that as a compliment.

In any case, it’s not like I have some dangerous notion that Shawn is perfect. But there’s a difference between not liking each other and not liking certain things about the other.

At some point during our conversation I took a brave breath then said, “So. Are there things you don’t like about me? Because I’d rather you tell me than tell someone else. At least then I can be aware.”

“There’s not much. Not really,” Shawn said.

“Not much? “ I said, feeling my shoulders tighten. “What do I do that you don’t like?”

Shawn looked at me a moment, quiet.

“This is important,” I said.

“Well. I don’t like when you’re bossy, when you get in my face and nag over and over about something,” he said.

“Is that it?” I said.

“Yup.”

Well, OF COURSE I’m bossy. And I do nag. It’s true. But only because sometimes I’m pretty sure he NEEDS me to tell him what to do and when to do it…and then make sure he doesn’t forget what to do and when to do it. How else will shit get done? Is this not my role?

“You want to know what yours is?” I asked.

“Sure.”

“I don’t like when you get controlling. You get really stubborn and stuck on the idea that things have to be exactly your way sometimes.”

“Is that it?” he asked, as if to say: Well, duh. Of course I’m controlling sometimes. I’m Shawn.

“Well, no. You’re super messy too. But I still love you. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Maybe it’s a lot of pressure we place on our marriage friendships. I love my girlfriends, but I can’t think of one I’d want to hang out with 24/7. I’m sure they feel the same about me. And when we’ve had enough of each other, we can just be “super busy” for a week or a month and then when we call each other next? It’s all good. It’s not so easy when you’re married and your spouse is making you batshit crazy annoyed.

Both Shawn and I watched our first decade-long marriages fail. Can we trust each other to still see all the good in each other for 10 years and beyond? I’m a bit like a social scientist about marriage this second time around. I watch couples around me who’ve logged some years together, collecting hopeful little crumbs that suggest that I can get it right this time. I read a friend’s blog who writes about her husband greeting her home from a run with a homemade latte, catch my sister and brother-in-law sneaking a hug, or listen to details of my aunt and uncle excitedly planning their next travel adventure, and I see what’s possible.

I see that the friendship that romantic love feeds off of is often in the details. It’s noticing that Shawn gives me a backrub every night, no matter how tired he is. It’s watching him help the boys with math homework at 9:30 p.m., long after my brain has put the Closed sign up. And it’s knowing that even if I’m a bossy nag sometimes (Yeah, but...) he still digs me.

I’m not trying to oversimplify. I don’t think Shawn’s and my previous marriages failed just because we weren’t friends with our spouses. But I’ve seen the Viagra commercials, and I know what’s coming. (Err, or not.) Anyway, when his plumbing fails and Madame Menopause puts a hex on my desire, it’s seems like a good idea that we’re able to laugh and find other things to do together.

Check.

So, kindly throw me a crumb if you have one to share: What are some of the little things that your sweetie does that nurtures your friendship?  (If you don’t have one, what would be on your list of important little things?)