My first relationship lasted four years. It ended dramatically and disastrously when I was 24 years old. I figured that one of the numerous things that had contributed to the downfall of this partnership was that we had become so familiar with one another as to saturate all romance. There was no air of mystery or excitement in our relationship. This manifested itself in many ways. One manifestation of this was that we had no qualms about going to the toilet in each other's presence. I thought nothing of taking a wee whilst he cleaned his teeth in the same room. I decided that all future relationships would be conducted wholly outside of the bathroom door.
So, I always ensured that I'd been to the toilet before meeting up with boyfriend number 2 and it was months before I could bring myself to go to the toilet in the same building as him, never mind the same room. It had become a bit of a thing for me. This relationship fizzled out, neither helped nor hindered by my lavatorial policy. It made way for liaison number 3. Again, no weeing together. It ended and I met the man to whom I am now married (although not necessarily in that order).
Mario and I will celebrate our 6th anniversary this year. He has seen me wee, poo, vomit, give birth, laugh my head off, cry my eyes out, drunk as a Lord, sober as a judge (I used to work for a chap who was both a Lord and a judge - don't know anything of his drinking habits though), be totally reasonable, be totally unreasonable, overweight, underweight, angry, calm, depressed, contented... there is not a side to Ruth that he has not seen. He is the only person on this planet and beyond who could put up with me, but he does far more than that. He encourages me to be me. "You do it", he says. Quite often. And I say the same to him.
We have two sofas in our living room. He sits on one in the evening and I sit on the other. We watch old comedies together and laugh hysterically in totally different places. He says potato and I say tomato and there is no one I'd rather be with.
My conclusion: I think on balance it's better to save weeing together until after marriage.
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3 comments:
It's our quirks that make us individual and therefore more loveable, don't you think?
I like to think David loves my quirks, but then, maybe that's one of my own quirks...?
xx
I really thought that this post would leave people thinking "WHAT can you say to that?" I'm thinking that you are a great conversationalist, Louise, who can talk on any topic! The sort of person who is always welcome at a dinner party.
"Louise just doesn't know when to keep quiet," probably featured quite alot in my school reports.
Am I the only person that says anything that pops into my tiny little head, just to fill a pregnant pause? It leads to a lot of "Oh, why did I say that?" moments, especially in the small hours when I can fret for Britain.
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