Dating : Beyond Happily Ever Afters.

How much more can you know someone after dating them for 7 years? You marry them and find that the answer is, a hell lot more. Exactly a month back, my then-boyfriend-now-husband (hereon referred to as, B) and I, solemnized in law that which has existed in love and in faith for very many years now. Having dated through college, and after enduring almost 2 years of the infamous long-distance relationship; we were finally getting married. But then, Corona virus made its’ appearance and all hell broke loose. However, we still managed a rather intimate ceremony with our immediate families, in hopes of having a bigger celebration later in the year; when people have settled into the new normal. And while the world is struggling to keep up with the changing dynamics of life as they knew it, so are we in our newly found, marital bliss.

You don’t know a person, in entirety, until you’ve lived with them. You could have had a million heart to heart conversations with them, be adept at reciting their childhood stories as fluidly as your own; but do you really know them, if you don’t know at exactly which hour of the night their sleep is at the deepest, and it’s time to switch off Netflix? These small quirks quickly manifested themselves as stumbling blocks, that we both tripped over (still do) frequently, in these last 4 weeks of marriage. For instance, my first morning at our new house, I was rattled awake by the brilliant sunlight gushing into our room, the bed and ultimately my face. After years of living at my home, where my dad would switch off the fans to wake us up, this was a whole new level of torture. I quickly leaped out of the bed to draw the drapes and curtains shut and dive back into the remnants of my broken morning dream, only to hear B say, “Let it be, sunlight helps me wake up”. “How did this never come up in the 7 years of our relationship, this masochist approach to waking up in the morning?”, I muttered to myself sleepily. A couple of days forth, to my own surprise, I realized that I have extremely strong opinions about which is the correct way to squeeze toothpaste out of the tube (always from bottom up, leaving no trace of the paste behind). Which was in stark contrast to B’s idiotic method of squeezing the tube right in the middle, and leaving it for me to find the tube kept askew. Hmph.

“Love is knowing that he is fond of cooking. Marriage, on the other hand, is knowing that he most certainly cannot cook with certain ingredients and removing them from the kitchen before he enters is your best bet.”

Before we got married, there were so many arguments in which I could unflinchingly hold my ground, considering they were contained between our respective mobile phones. But pulling a straight face now, during a fight, has become a herculean task as B has perfected the art of making me giggle right in those moments. Staying together does come with its set of perks, no denying that! I think when you start viewing your partner less as your saviour and more as the person you get to hang out with until you die, you’re more likely to forgive their shortcomings and accept that they’re not, and never will be, perfect. And in that imperfection lies our bliss. I want to make him happy and I know he wants to make me happy too. And while arguments are inevitable, I feel grateful to be with someone who’s actively seeking my happiness while I also seek his. It’s like that song goes, I love you more today than yesterday. But not as much as tomorrow.

Just the other day, as we were returning from our nightly walk in the society grounds, an elderly man stopped us. Looking at my crimson red bangles, giving away our newly married status, he congratulated us for the wedding and mentioned that he stays in the same tower as us — with his wife of last 52 years. After exchanging a few pleasantries, he surreptitiously lowered his voice and said, “Remember this kids, whenever there is a fight, whoever offers a scoop of ice cream first; wins. Remember this always. I speak from a place of experience. Nothing melts anger and bitterness sooner. I am carrying one upstairs now, strawberry, because it’s my wife’s favourite.”

Later that night, chuckling to ourselves, B and I spoke about the sweet, elderly man we met and his ice cream theory. We spoke far into the night about how every marriage is different, and people sustain their relationships through what seems the best to them. The next morning, though, after the curtains & drapes were drawn wide open and the toothpaste was squeezed out exactly how they should be (remember, bottom up, always) we both silently agreed to start keeping a tub of chocolate chip ice cream; always stocked in our fridge, just in case. 😊