Nearly all marriages, even happy ones, are mistakes: in the sense that almost certainly (in a more perfect world, or even with a little more care in this very imperfect one) both partners might be found more suitable mates. But the real soul-mate is the one you are actually married to.
~J. R. R. Tolkien
It seems to me, after having experienced what little I have of married life directly, and what greater experience I have garnered in past years indirectly, that inasmuch as communication is one of the cornerstones of a successful marriage, so too is it strengthened that much more by communication unique to the married couple. In fact, a couple engaged in conversation utilising their rapport to the best of their abilities could easily appear to be speaking almost total gibberish to any casual observers.
This can come from nothing but gathering experience with one another and, to put a poker spin on it, devolves to ultimately knowing what your partners 'tells' are.
I benefit greatly from my wife's inability to control the arch raising of a single eyebrow. I liken it to the autonomic nervous system in the human body responsible for controlling so many of our vital vitals which, if forced to perform consciously, would preclude the human race from doing much of anything other than sitting around breathing, keeping our hearts beating and remembering not to touch anything that's glowing red hot. If which were the case we might all be in a better state than we are.
She still has the ability to arch her eyebrow consciously, but it is a much more obvious gesture than the more subtle one that tells me I'd better quickly review what I just said and explain the intent behind the words that spilled forth in a manner rather more unkempt than is advisable when lobbing them at one's wife. (Sometimes I so wish there was a <-Backspace key for dialogue...)
One of the most noted elements of conversation that is unique to the communication shared between my wife and I is the phrase, "most of the time".
This little gem is brought out in response to innocent queries that should normally attract a simple "yes". Frequently at the tail end of a conversation where a point is about to be made. And just as frequently making little sense in context.
"Do you like these jeans on me?"
"Do you mind coming shopping with me?"
"Did you like that movie?"
"Where's the nearest gas station?"
It's genesis can be traced back very early in our relationship; well before we were even engaged. We were involved in a fairly intimate - and fully clothed - moment where the mood would be insulted by conversation consisting of anything even resembling an inanity.
Amy looked directly in my eyes and bravely asked, "Do you really like spending time with me?"
To which my well thought out and coherent reply went something like, "Oh yeah! For sure... Most of the time."
Curtain falls, lights go up, audience leaves and the mood flees screaming, vowing never to return.
"Umm, what I meant was, uh..."
"Yes?" [Insert archly raised eyebrow here.]
"Well, you see, I enjoy all the time I spend with you... and seeing as how we've only gotten together sort of recently, that's quite a bit. Not that I think it's too much! It's just that the start of a relationship means that you want to spend a lot of time with each other. Not that I plan to want to spend less time with you later... Am I making any sense yet?"
"No." [Damn that immovable eyebrow!]
"I think what I was trying to say was that I enjoy spending my time with you, which is, right now, most of the time, and it's just made that much better by the time in between when we're not together so I can appreciate the time when we are together. And that's what I was sort of thinking, but it just got compressed and came out as 'most of the time'. Does that make sense yet?"
"Well... I guess so... sort of." [Eyebrows level once again. Replaced by look of utter confusion.]
I can assure you that I was paraphrasing above and what I really said was actually much less coherent that how it sounded. If backpedalling could backpedal, I would have hitched a ride, paid double the fare and taken a turn driving so as not to have to stop for pee breaks.
Looking back now, I'm quite sure that the terseness of my initial reply had a great deal to do with the fact that my previous long-term relationship involved a whole lotta clinginess on the part of one party that was initially accepted, grudgingly, on the part of the other party and, when that reticence transformed, inevitably, to resentment and standoffishness, yielded strained communication and ultimately became one of the contributing factors to the dissolution of the whole party.
So, presented in mind with what looked, superficially, like the potential to become that from which I had run screaming before, I attempted to sum up the whole of my sentiment on the matter with four carefully chosen, ideally arranged and perfectly articulated words. "Most of the time."
It took us a little while to get past that. And you have no idea how carefully I still choose to phrase some of the replies to my wife's queries.
A suspicious pause in conversation is eminently preferable to an irretrievable poor turn of phrase.
"But the real soul-mate is the one you are actually married to."
Profoundly true.
Posted by: Paula | Tuesday, 22 November 2005 at 02:43 PM
Good stuff.
My "raised eyebrow" comes in the form of me moving my tongue to the side so it's touching my cheek, which moves my jaw in a particular way. I had no idea I did this until Marc started pointing it out (and I still can't control it). Damn you over-perceptive men!!!
Posted by: Dixie | Tuesday, 22 November 2005 at 02:52 PM
Dixie said:
Damn you over-perceptive men!!!
It is purely an evolutionary fail-safe to compensate for the more numerous times we are not perceptive enough.
-Alec
Posted by: Alec Lynch | Tuesday, 22 November 2005 at 05:38 PM
Insightful post, and this is coming from a guy who's been married 13 years.
My grandfather once told me, with my grandmother in the room, that he didn't believe there was one person right for him, but that he could have been just as happily married to somebody else. He happened to meet and fall in love with my grandmother. I completely believe this, too, and unlike some people, I do not see it as a knock against my spouse.
Posted by: Mark | Wednesday, 23 November 2005 at 08:31 AM
I loved this post. Thank you, dear Simon.
Posted by: Jenn | Tuesday, 29 November 2005 at 08:43 AM
Wonderful post.
Posted by: Nathan | Tuesday, 29 November 2005 at 07:52 PM