The Greatest Love Story Ever Told

by Cookie

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In October of 2000, I met the man I knew I would marry.  I was 23.  (23!)  We dated pretty casually for almost a year before deciding to make a commitment to one another.  That whole thing was kind of farcical, because neither one of us was really dating anyone else.  It was just us from the very beginning.  But for some reason, things just evolved slowly into the relationship that we have today.  It took some time.

I hate it when people say “I want to marry my best friend”.  It sounds like they are on an episode of the Bachelor and about to be  dumped.  But in my case, he really was my best friend before anything else.  We just got on so so well.  We never ran out of things to talk about, or stupid shit to do.  Sometimes he would come over at like 10 o’clock at night after all his homework was done just to go for a drive and a visit.

My Mom use to ask me all the time if he was my boyfriend, and I would say “we’re best friends”. Because we were.

So we graduated from University and started our life together.  In a one bedroom 500 square foot apartment.  We got a couple of ferrets and liked to get drunk on the weekends regardless of how broke we were.  We graduated to a 2 bedroom in a couple of years, and then finally to our house a couple of years after that.

And through all this time, through all of the fights that couples endure, and family drama that is impossible to avoid, we still laughed.  We did the things that you do with your buddies, and made it through every bump along the road.  Some bumps were bigger than others, and a lot of them weren’t handled with very much grace, but we have clawed our way through every shitty situation over the years together.  And come out the other side together.

We swore we would never have kids.  We didn’t feel like anything was missing from our lives.  We had each other.  And three dogs.  And a room full of ferrets.  And a couple of lizards. And some fish.  Where the fuck would we even put a child?  There was no room.  Literally.

Until one day that all changed.   We decided to have a baby.

So out of our love for one another, we created this life.  And that first year was really hard. We didn’t know anything about babies.  We winged it.  Because we loved her.

And this is where the story becomes great for me.  When I first got pregnant, I didn’t feel that overwhelming sense of love for my unborn child.  I felt panic.  Because our life was about to change, and everything was so unknown.  As the pregnancy continued, that changed.  I relaxed.

Then she was here.  And although the love was immediate, it was overshadowed by panic again.  I was terrified I would screw it up.  Terrified I would get it wrong.   But I guess I didn’t.

And as I see her now, so bright and happy.  No, full of joy (usually) at all the little things in life, I can push away the fear of something happening to her and enjoy the greatest part of having children.

Knowing what true love really is.  Because this is it.

And her and I spend the days doing everyday things.  And we have fun, whether it’s a trip to the store ( unless it’s Ikea) or just hanging out at home.  Like best friends.  Like me and Daddy used to do.

And now, we are 3 months away from Little Buddy.  And I don’t know how I will ever share my love between the two of them.  How does that work?  Do you grow more with the new baby?  Does it split in half?  Because I don’t want to share my love for Destroyer.

Is there enough?  There seemed to be enough to split between Daddy and Destroyer, but can it go three ways?

It will.  It has to.  Because ours is the greatest love story ever told.

Because it’s real.

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