three years in

eating England

This morning I woke, brain fuzzy and hair very large, from indulging in too much wine and steak and general middle class debauchery last night. Jon and I celebrated our three years of wedded life by indulging in a stupidly expensive meal at a place in Brighton called The Coal Shed. We ordered a sharing steak (T-bone!), truffle mac and cheese, and garlic mushrooms that tasted like Jesus himself had made them in heaven and then put them in a little ceramic pot just for us. We drank red wine and got a bit drunk and held hands and talked about stuff.

I know that people say, over and over and over again, that marriage is hard, but knock on wood, I am fucking happy with my partner and it’s really not that hard to be happy. Maybe some day it will be, and that’s okay. But not now, not yet. And yeah, we’re both assholes sometimes, but two assholes can be super happy together, let me tell you. I’m coming to believe that people who talk about how hard marriage and relationships are, how they’re the hardest thing ever, are either 1)liars, or 2) in terrible relationships but just don’t know it. A marriage should not be like some sort of degree or qualification, something you have to study for and think really hard about and get marks on. Shouldn’t it be so much more natural than that?

The hardest things for us happened before we were married, when we were living in different countries and had no idea what the future held. And the hardest parts since we got married have never really been around our relationship, but more about finding work and making money and living with in-laws and transatlanticism and other such things that care nothing for love. We moved across the world and found each other and five years later (three of them legally bound) that still seems like a really really good decision.

Thank God for love. My man is a gem.


Pre dinner pub drinks:

And the main event in a fuzzy picture that Jon sent to his dude friends to brag about meat:

And oysters!


This guy. He’s good. Here’s to three good years so far, and three plus give or take a lifetime more.



3 thoughts on “three years in”

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