Let Me Tell You a Story
So back in a post in December (My Bipolar and Marriage) I mentioned that I felt like I trapped Nick into marriage. Looking back on it, I feel like I trapped or pressured Nick our whole relationship.
When Nick first asked me out, he brought me ice cream. I didn't even realize that I was going to say yes. He really wasn't my type; I always swore I was never going to go out with a car guy. But he met the height requirement, and I was pretty superficial at the time. Besides, he was funny and charming. So we went out to Country Kitchen that night, and I had a really nice time.
Three days later I told him that I loved him. Did I? I don't know. I was manic. At the time I believed I did. But it was the beginning of where I feel like, looking back, I started pressuring him. Over time I encouraged him to buy me a ring, which to me was a promise ring, but to him was just a ring I wanted. It was just one of many miscommunications that we had.
When I really wanted to get married, after Bryan was born, several years into our relationship, I went out and bought an engagement ring. Nick kept holding out, and I couldn't see what his problem was. We went to Red Lobster one night, and when he went to the bathroom, I put the ring on the lobster shell or something silly like that. He came back, and he was upset. I couldn't figure out if he was upset because I bought a ring or if it was because he was being proposed to instead of doing the proposing. I couldn't fathom that after over four years together he wouldn't want to get married, and I didn't know if that was the case. I didn't know what his deal was.
We talked later and he said he was waiting for his grandmother's ring to propose. I just had to be patient. I was sick of being patient, but I was going to try. After all, I had the engagement ring I bought. That could always be a back up. So I put the ring in it's box and we put it away.
Eventually Nick did propose to me with the ring that I bought. I took it in to be sized and told him that he could pick it up, or not, it didn't matter to me. It did matter, though, and then came the horrible proposal where I was all sweaty and not very happy because I had envisioned candlelight and roses, and that was not the case. As a romantic, I had a very specific vision in my head of how I thought my proposal would be. Life with Nick is not ever like my visions.
This is another instance in my life where I wish I could have a do-over, not so much the proposal, but my reaction. I wish I wasn't crabby and hadn't given a sarcastic "no." I wish I didn't feel like I pressured him into that proposal. I wish I hadn't told him he could pick up that ring...or not. Like he really was just going to leave the ring at the jewelers.
When Bryan was first born, Nick lost his job. Nick lived with Bryan and I at my apartment for several months. In the spring of 1998, we went down to Wisconsin to a family wedding on my father's side. Nick picked up a paper and looked for job opportunities down there. He found one, interviewed, and got the job. (This was obviously over the next few weeks.) In June he moved down with some friends and started working in Wisconsin, and in August Bryan and I moved down there as well. I had found an apartment for us, but it was hard. Nick said he was supporting his family, and I always felt like what he meant was I had forced him into doing something he didn't want to do.
Nick and I bought a house in October 2000, and the house we bought is something that I wanted. I could see us living there, having holidays there, and he agreed to it. Once again, I feel like it's something I pressured him into.
After the incident with his friend in the summer of 2001, I broke off our engagement. Then 9/11 happened. We went to give blood a few days after, and as we were standing looking out the window of our living room, realizing how lucky we were, Nick told me to hold on. He went into the other room, and when he came back, he pulled out a ring made out of quartz and some metal he used at the shop. He proposed with that ring, and I said yes. Because I realistically couldn't wear that ring (the quartz was HUGE!), I went back to wearing the engagement ring that I had bought. Our wedding was set for September 2002.
For our wedding, I wanted to fly out to Vegas and get married by Elvis. Nick, however, insisted that we have a big, fancy Cinderella wedding. We got married in my parents backyard and had our reception in the ballroom where I'd had my senior prom. It was gorgeous. I'd tried to bully him out of it, but in the end, I'm glad I didn't. It was beautiful.
We got married on the seven-year anniversary of our first date. I feel like I waited forever, but now I wonder what I waited for. I wanted the same last name as my kids. Now I think I could've just hyphenated their last name. This is another instance where I think in black and white. I love Nick dearly. But was love enough to push for marriage the way I did?
My dad always said that marriage was just a piece of paper, that love is a feeling between two people that can't be broken. He had a wonderful relationship with his last girlfriend, whom I affectionately called my Connie-Mom. She took care of him until the end, and the love between them was beautiful to witness. I feel that way towards Nick. No matter what crap we go through together, I have this deep down love for him. No matter what shit we pull against each other, I can't stop loving him, even when I think I don't love him anymore. He can hurt me deeper than anyone ever has before, and yet I stay, willing to forgive and give him another chance. So maybe I do feel like I've pressured him into this relationship, but I don't know how to live without him.
Over half of my life has been spent loving Nick. Maybe I'm co-dependent, but I'll spend another 25 years loving him.
See you on next week's dirt!
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