My sweetie writes
Anecdotal Evidence --Prologue---
I'd like to tell you a story about a guy and a gal who loved each other and had it made.
There was this guy, he was young and strong, bright and sparkly, and he smelled really good. He was very romantic, loved the idea of love itself, and was most willing to try it out for real. Possessing a good imagination and a lively sense of the absurd, he knew how to use both. He wrote well, and was up for adventure.
There was this gal. She was kinda quiet, pretty bright, read a lot, and had gone adventuring on her own way more than the average gal. She knew that there were good people everywhere, and although she did not have a clear idea where she was headed, she was pretty optimistic, and open.
Together they had a wonderful time, with some adventures in the sexual department that stirred a real depth of feeling for which she was willing to do whatever was required. They traveled together, got some of the bugs worked out, and made it good between them. They spent time apart, which fed both his ideas of romance, and her ideas of independence, and made their together time all the more special. Intensely bonded, they formed their own understanding of how they were in the relationship. This worked well enough that when there were any irregularities, they never found it important enough to discuss to resolution. Both were proud that they never fought. They weathered crises by spending time apart, and coming together again.
He never understood how she might be angry, and really, neither did she; she just thought she was raised that way, never took any real notice of it. He was raised that way too, and he never used a harsh word. Both eldest children, they solved their differences simply and kindly, allowing one or the other to have their way, and trading off fairly regularly. If she voiced an idea that he did not like (and she could tell because he came up with many a worst-case scenario), she knew it was too hard for him, and she dropped it. If he came up with an idea that she did not like, she usually got behind it and made it happen. He was otherwise a very good listener.
They both worked hard. They agreed to do everything the hard way to prove their competency, worked in jobs of service and did additional things to serve the community. Most of their conversations were about how they were going to accomplish the next thing on the very long list, and even as the years went by the list never seemed to shrink. Fortunately, they coordinated very well, since children were added onto the list, darling bright and promising things themselves. They were a model couple for the community, for their families, and for themselves as well.
In the last few years they were together, she often felt dissatisfied. She overran that by keeping busy, at which she was very proficient. He was all rosy about things all the time, and talked her up to an embarrassingly high pedestal in the community. Fortunately, she was not too far from living that, so it was no real trouble, and both felt it meant he loved her.
For her part, she never complained about him, saying only, “If he ever learned to put the toilet seat down, he'd be perfect.”
She began to cause trouble, to stir things up, to feel ornery, to aggravate people in small ways outside of the home. She quit working five jobs, cut it down to two, took time for herself in the days and often accomplished little more than the equivalent of dishes, all the chores and maintenance, which was aggravating as there was so much more to do. She longed to travel, but there was no getting away from the ties they had made. She was aware that she needed adventure, that it was hard for her to stay in one place, that the emotional drain from being in service all the time at work and home was wearing her down, but she did not know how to ask for anything different as she had it all, just ask anybody.
She could not seem to keep the mess of their lives under control, and often felt near tears with the idea that it was not supposed to be like this. Where was the fun part? Which was positively silly as the guy was as loving and affectionate as ever. He worked hard all the time and then took on interesting projects, some of which got him traveling and left her at home to keep all the balls in the air by herself, which of course she did and made it look easy, too. He attended lots of meetings and other duties which were important, they agreed. She felt like she was wearing down to the nubs, and did not know what to do about it.
Ah, but I digress, as this is the story of the guy and the gal who loved each other and had it made, and a long and wonder-filled story it is, too. It was a special love, one that made it through the type of hardships that dashed other relationships on the rocks. It was a love that thrived on adventure, on hard work and derring-do, and had more than a little spot of good luck now and again. No, my children, this is a love story of great proportion and inordinate abundance, of fertility, fecundity and habitual kindness, of a richness that few ever know. This, my little ones, is the story of your parents before you knew them, from before you ever even existed, and most certainly from before you were able to make your own informed observations. Listen closely and I'll start this exceptional tale at its modest beginning.......