Insurance
"Relationships," my crazy former therapist used to say, "have no guarantees."
I still have trouble believing that I actually trusted the words that came out of her mouth, considering her office was an absolute disaster -- unexplained plastic children's chairs stacked high with haphazard manila folders and an ancient air conditioner under the window that I always had to shout over -- and she could never seem to keep her tangerine-colored pedicure touched up. But, occasionally, she'd come up with gems like the one above.
Things with N are going so well it's hard to believe this is actually my life. It's not perfect -- nothing ever is; I still get wasted off of Ketel One and tonics and say crazy things, like how much I want to marry him. (Yeah. I know.) And I still get a flicker or two of irrational jealousy from him. (Yes. Seriously.) But for the most part, our bodies curl into each other, and our words intertwine. We are happy with each other.
At least I know I am, with him.
But that's the thing: You can't know. No matter what the other person says or does, it's impossible to know what's really going on in their heads, what's going to happen next month, or even where they are when they're not with you. There are no guarantees. And, as Sunny says, the other person could get hit by a bus tomorrow: Point is, you just never know. I think that's where this little thing called "trust" comes in.
Today, though, I got this little sliver of insurance from N -- a whisper of a promise that I wasn't sure was going to come. He has talked about both taking me somewhere warm this month or next and going to the tropical destination wedding that a high school friend of mine is having in May. Having heard all of those kinds of promises before (see: Christmastime 2007), I was resigned that I'd believe it when the plane tickets were booked.
Today, though, he took the first step: He reserved our rooms for the destination wedding and sent me a picture of the beachside resort we'd be staying in. As far as a guarantee goes, I think that's about as close as I'm going to get, for now. It also means that I'd better get used to the idea of being with him for quite some time...or at least for four more months. Wow. It's a little scary, but it feels just right.
I still have trouble believing that I actually trusted the words that came out of her mouth, considering her office was an absolute disaster -- unexplained plastic children's chairs stacked high with haphazard manila folders and an ancient air conditioner under the window that I always had to shout over -- and she could never seem to keep her tangerine-colored pedicure touched up. But, occasionally, she'd come up with gems like the one above.
Things with N are going so well it's hard to believe this is actually my life. It's not perfect -- nothing ever is; I still get wasted off of Ketel One and tonics and say crazy things, like how much I want to marry him. (Yeah. I know.) And I still get a flicker or two of irrational jealousy from him. (Yes. Seriously.) But for the most part, our bodies curl into each other, and our words intertwine. We are happy with each other.
At least I know I am, with him.
But that's the thing: You can't know. No matter what the other person says or does, it's impossible to know what's really going on in their heads, what's going to happen next month, or even where they are when they're not with you. There are no guarantees. And, as Sunny says, the other person could get hit by a bus tomorrow: Point is, you just never know. I think that's where this little thing called "trust" comes in.
Today, though, I got this little sliver of insurance from N -- a whisper of a promise that I wasn't sure was going to come. He has talked about both taking me somewhere warm this month or next and going to the tropical destination wedding that a high school friend of mine is having in May. Having heard all of those kinds of promises before (see: Christmastime 2007), I was resigned that I'd believe it when the plane tickets were booked.
Today, though, he took the first step: He reserved our rooms for the destination wedding and sent me a picture of the beachside resort we'd be staying in. As far as a guarantee goes, I think that's about as close as I'm going to get, for now. It also means that I'd better get used to the idea of being with him for quite some time...or at least for four more months. Wow. It's a little scary, but it feels just right.
Labels: ketel one, n, new york city, psychology, relationships
posted by Jane at 10:16 PM
2 Comments:
I am in risk management and I am convinced the "insurance policy" for relationships lies in liquor, chocolate, and men named Ben & Jerry. Until then enjoy it for what it's worth and don't think about the catastrophic damage until the hurricane hits!
Oh, I love that, kb. Seriously. That's an excellent motto; I may stitch it on a pillow. :)
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