This weekend was fine. In some ways, better than expected.
We had lunch with a friend that I have not seen since before Gabe's birth, except very briefly in passing, though DH has seen him regularly. We'd had plans, but I couldn't go anywhere with all the bleeding, then he was gone, and well . . . I haven't really been up for company.
It was, however, good to see him and spend time with him, in the end. He seemed surprised by my bringing up Gabriel and it was somewhat awkward, but in the end, necessary. People need to understand what he meant to us and understand that he will be brought up in conversation. He took it in stride, which shouldn't surprise me and we had a really interesting conversation about religion (he is Jewish).
We also had a terribly interesting conversation about love and marriage, as I played the older sister card and inquired into his lovelife. We talked about that a bit and what he's looking for and why things aren't going the way he might have hoped and whether or not he wants to settle down, so on.
But what became fascinating was our discussion about our types. I said, and believe it whole-heartedly, that I am excessively lucky to have tumbled across paths with my husband by chance. Because were it not for him, I would have ended up in an unpleasant situation - loving someone who would always love themselves more. Being with someone who was terribly smart, but who needed someone to tell them just how smart they were all the time. My low self-esteem and what I thought I wanted (versus what I really needed) were such that I spent too much time on people who did challenge me mentally, but who were enormously self-centered in the end.
And really, I'm worth more than that; worth more than centering my life around another human's smugness, subverting my own opinions and desires in order to prop up theirs, letting them run roughshod over me because I would be too terrified of upsetting them if I stood up for myself. In short, a hair's breadth from emotionally abusive relationships all my life long, and pathetically grateful for it.
Were it not for my husband, I don't know that I could ever have realized that I really want partnership and love that is equal and based on mutual respect. I wouldn't have realized just how important silliness and laughter would be to me. I wouldn't have realized just how much friendship matters to a long-lasting relationship (more than romance, I can tell you).
I told our friend that I could see myself being with someone sharper (more like him, actually) now, but I wouldn't have made a good relationship with someone like him back then. It would have been dangerous for me, and I wouldn't have been really happy in the end.
And I doubt very much that most other men could have survived intact with me these months. I doubt very much that those others would have held me up and held no blame for me and not allowed me to blame myself.
I am blessed beyond measure to be my husband's wife. I know precisely how much when my husband brought it up again in the car and told me how bothered he was by my statement, because he knows it is true. And he's hurt to think about how miserable and lonely I would have been with one of those guys. He was really troubled by the thought.
I love him. So much more than can be expressed fully.