I was doing some soul-searching lately and, as often happens when I’m thinking, my mind wandered on to my wonderful geek, my sweet love, whom I mentioned in my first ever blog. He is the Spiderman to my Gwen Stacy*. But more importantly I realized I have done to him what many people who have ever been in love are guilty of. I have had my heart broken before(I know, who hasn’t?). But I am guilty of making him suffer for past guys offenses. Not really suffer, but I live with the fear that I will be left. He has never given me reason to think he would but he does have to deal with my weird episodes every now and then. The point of this odd post is that thinking about this reminded me of something my grandmother told me once, that I hadn’t thought about for a long time.
Now my grandmother isn’t exactly a beacon of wisdom, and she is definitely unorthodox, but sometimes she does have her moments. They are usually in between years of insults and inappropriately timed questions. Anyway she told me once that you can’t properly love someone else until you know how to love yourself…it was the most insightful thing she’d ever said. Even though she said it hatefully about her second husband, it was intelligent none the less. That thought led me to thinking about my grandmother in general. She’s only had two husbands, the first was my grandfather, he was a cheater and because of that (and his apparent lack of belief in condoms) I now have random half relatives all over the US whom I will never know. They divorced, then she married her second husband. He wasn’t a nice man, but he’s dead now. Don’t worry, she didn’t kill him…not directly at least. But I think he knew he’d have to go first because she would be too stubborn to, so he drank himself to death. I don’t really know if my grandmother ever loved either of her husbands, I mean I imagine at some point she did, just enough to marry them. But I think deep down she only did it because she’s not one to mess with socially accepted practices and that’s just what women did, they got married.
In all honesty I don’t think my grandmother was ever meant to be “the marrying type”. I know she won’t do it again, that’s for sure. My grandmother is far too strong-willed to be asked to compromise, and that’s what marriage is right, one big compromise? She doesn’t really know the meaning of compromise, I think. My mom is “the marrying type” though. She tends to need a man by her side. She feels unworthy if she doesn’t have one. It has led to some big mistakes. And all this thinking about “the marrying type” led me to wonder if I was. I honestly don’t know. I think maybe, as with most things, I’m somewhere between. I don’t need to be in a relationship, I spent most of my life out of them. I enjoy my time when I’m single just as much as I enjoy my time when I’m not. But I believe for me it boils down to the who, not the what. It’s not so much am I “the marrying type”, it’s could I be for him? And for my sweet web-slinger, I think I could be…But then again, I’m only 20, what the hell do I know about “marrying types”?
*Just so you know, that says more than if I were the more famous Mary Jane because Gwen Stacy is actually Peter Parker’s true love, who is tragically killed by the Green Goblin in the comics. After a period of grieving it is then that Peter fall for MJ, but his heart forever truly belongs to Gwen which is why, some have speculated, that his marriage to MJ didn’t work out.