(no subject)
so, i usually find relationship and dating books to be complete and utter bullshit, and absolutely not worth a second of my time. but i read an excerpt from one in this article that hits the nail right on the head, as far as my thoughts on relationships/marriage are concerned-- so right on, in fact, that i must share it with you:
"There's a reason you don't ask for another card when you have 20 in blackjack. It's because there's only a miniscule chance that you're going to beat the hand you already have. Recognize when your relationship is a 20 and when it's time to hold on to it instead of quitting for greener grass.
You've probably heard this story before:
Girl meets guy and knows, from their first kiss, that he's "the one." Meeting him, to her, is the equivalent of getting 20 in blackjack. He may not be perfect, but he's way closer than she's gotten before, and that's good enough. After a bit of soul-searching, she decides that this is going to be the man she marries. She's secure in her decision because she's gone out with men before and knows that catches like this are hard to find. Then, he breaks up with her -- even though he admits they had something special, even though he said he'd never loved a woman in his entire life the way he loved her.
What lingers with me when I hear this story is not whether the guy was telling the truth about his feelings for her, but whether breaking up will ultimately be the right move for him. This tale -- experienced by most of us -- brings up a very common dilemma. I call it the "You Just Know" syndrome.
In my mind, it takes nothing away from a perfectly happy couple to acknowledge that however much you might want to say "you just know," when a relationship is right you never just know. You can't. Life is too unpredictable and has far too many variables. Infidelity, boredom, financial ruin, and physical decline have all been known to split up couples that have taken eternal vows. For many people, it's not which of these things might happen, it's which of these things might not happen. And still, for all the crap that life throws our way, somehow, 50 percent of marriages manage to survive. That's an amazing statistic right there.
My parents were married for thirty years before my dad passed away. When I was young, I asked each of them independently how they knew that they were meant to be together. Not surprisingly, neither of them knew for sure. Well, how could they? He was twenty-three and she was twenty-two when they got hitched. They didn't know much of anything. And had Mom determined at some point that she was better off alone, or Dad felt that they married too young and needed to experience other people, this would be just another story of another suburban divorce.
The point is that my parents made it, but they didn't have to. They had no idea what the next thirty years had in store for them when they said, "I do." All they did was believe in the sanctity of their commitment, and they found a way to make it work.
I believe in love and lifetime partnerships and all that. I just can't shake the idea that with any permanent contract into which you voluntarily enter, you're going to have second thoughts. It's smart to go in with a full awareness of what a fifty-year commitment entails. If you don't think you're cut out for it, better to delay or bail than to go through the motions until you get the divorce that in your heart you knew was inevitable.
Will you ever know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that you're meant to spend the rest of your life with one man? Probably not. But the next time you "get 20 in blackjack", consider how long it took to pull that card and whether it's worth it to keep fishing for that ace."
"There's a reason you don't ask for another card when you have 20 in blackjack. It's because there's only a miniscule chance that you're going to beat the hand you already have. Recognize when your relationship is a 20 and when it's time to hold on to it instead of quitting for greener grass.
You've probably heard this story before:
Girl meets guy and knows, from their first kiss, that he's "the one." Meeting him, to her, is the equivalent of getting 20 in blackjack. He may not be perfect, but he's way closer than she's gotten before, and that's good enough. After a bit of soul-searching, she decides that this is going to be the man she marries. She's secure in her decision because she's gone out with men before and knows that catches like this are hard to find. Then, he breaks up with her -- even though he admits they had something special, even though he said he'd never loved a woman in his entire life the way he loved her.
What lingers with me when I hear this story is not whether the guy was telling the truth about his feelings for her, but whether breaking up will ultimately be the right move for him. This tale -- experienced by most of us -- brings up a very common dilemma. I call it the "You Just Know" syndrome.
In my mind, it takes nothing away from a perfectly happy couple to acknowledge that however much you might want to say "you just know," when a relationship is right you never just know. You can't. Life is too unpredictable and has far too many variables. Infidelity, boredom, financial ruin, and physical decline have all been known to split up couples that have taken eternal vows. For many people, it's not which of these things might happen, it's which of these things might not happen. And still, for all the crap that life throws our way, somehow, 50 percent of marriages manage to survive. That's an amazing statistic right there.
My parents were married for thirty years before my dad passed away. When I was young, I asked each of them independently how they knew that they were meant to be together. Not surprisingly, neither of them knew for sure. Well, how could they? He was twenty-three and she was twenty-two when they got hitched. They didn't know much of anything. And had Mom determined at some point that she was better off alone, or Dad felt that they married too young and needed to experience other people, this would be just another story of another suburban divorce.
The point is that my parents made it, but they didn't have to. They had no idea what the next thirty years had in store for them when they said, "I do." All they did was believe in the sanctity of their commitment, and they found a way to make it work.
I believe in love and lifetime partnerships and all that. I just can't shake the idea that with any permanent contract into which you voluntarily enter, you're going to have second thoughts. It's smart to go in with a full awareness of what a fifty-year commitment entails. If you don't think you're cut out for it, better to delay or bail than to go through the motions until you get the divorce that in your heart you knew was inevitable.
Will you ever know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that you're meant to spend the rest of your life with one man? Probably not. But the next time you "get 20 in blackjack", consider how long it took to pull that card and whether it's worth it to keep fishing for that ace."