The first time I told Meredith I loved her was at the Mighty Taco on Grant Street in the city of Buffalo.
That Mighty Taco is closed now.
We’re married with children.
In 13 years of marriage you learn many things. Some things you forget. Like whether you ordered food at that Mighty Taco or just met there to talk. I remember regretting letting her get away several months prior. (She didn’t try to escape. I had broken up with her.) So I went looking for her when I realized I was a moron.
When you first get married you love each other for who you are.
Then you learn to love each other for who you have become.
I didn’t realize how much would be required to have a love that lasts. It’s downright paralyzing sometimes.We’re talking vulnerability. Big league. How raw it can be. For this reason I understand why people sometimes feel like the best thing to do is to stay in the shallow end of their marriage. It’s a lot less demanding. It comes complete with a false sense of satisfaction. (False may be too strong a word. Stunted may be a better word. Underdeveloped is another.) You think it’s the real thing. But it could be so much more.
Meredith and I decided to start swimming in the deep end. It has kind of happened gradually. And, yes, some moments it feels like drowning. Good thing Meredith was on the swim team in high school. She keeps my head above water. I do the same for her. Though I don’t think I’m as strong of a swimmer.
Thanks to the deep end, our connection today is more honest. It’s more alive. It’s more electric.
We’ve come a long way since that Mighty Taco.
