Chello

Hi there. I’m on my way to making it big.

Anyway, Welcome to my blog. I have been trying to get this started for like a month but something always got in my way. Seems like every weekend, my wife and I had some new commitment. We have attended, weddings, went to Las Vegas, worked, went to a Halloween party, hosted a party, celebrated an Anniversary, celebrated my wife’s birthday, and got crazy with the cheese wiz, all in the last two months.

Weddings. While at a wedding last month I tried to guess at how many I’ve attended. I figure well over fifty and more likely closer to one hundred. This year alone I will have gone to five. I’ve heard the worst toasts and heard Wonderful Tonight more times than any man should. However, it was my own wedding that scarred me the most.

Getting married always scared the living shit out of me. I ended past relationships at the mere suggestion of the idea from my mate. When I met Joyce, I was still that scarred little boy who grew up in a culture of divorce. I was older however, and maybe, just maybe getting wiser.

When we met I had just gotten out of hell. The year 1997 may go down as the worst in my life. I was unhappy, living with a nut case of a girlfriend and her ten-year-old son. I was at rock bottom. It seemed that all my thoughts would be how to get out of my situation. When, I finally did I was in no mood for another relationship right away. However.

I met Joyce. I got a new job and on my first day we were introduced. I liked her right away but having been burned by past office romances was unsure if I should act on any feelings. We did and started to date. Sadly, I was in no mind frame to be in a relationship. I was taking out all of my frustrations from my previous relationship out on her. It was not fair but I could not help myself. So, we broke up.

Ten months would go by and one day I picked up the phone and called her. Maybe, out of loneliness or maybe at having realized that I had a great person and let her slip away. We started talking and despite all of my best efforts she took me back. However, Joyce was older than me, the first girl I ever dated who was older. Her clock was ticking and was in no mood to keep waiting for me to shit or get off the pot.

I knew I had to confront that fear of marriage or lose the one person who I knew I should be with. I thought about all the people I knew who were divorced. I thought about how when I heard of someone getting married, how I would just shake my head. I guess my biggest fear was that I was doing something that was normal and un-original.

I hate unoriginality and obviousness. I hate conformity and never wanted to be in a rut. Getting married always seemed like the ultimate sell out. I mean it’s been done to death. I equated it to, no more freedom, and much more responsibility.

Thankfully, Joyce waited me out. She waited for me to get my head out of my ass and realize that she wasn’t going to take away my freedom. She only wanted to enhance me and make me a better person. Why should I be scarred of that?

I hate sentimentality and happy endings, and I promise to those who know me that I will be my pessimistic, bitter old self from this point on. I just wanted to start my blog by giving my wife the greatest anniversary present of all. A public display of affection. I am writing for the entire world to see that I love her. I want to thank her for staying with me. Thank her for putting up with my old school macho mentality. I want her to know that I appreciate her.
Now, that I am married I realize that I wasn’t scarred. I just hadn’t met the right person