"Why do we always fight on important dates? Last time it was my birthday, now on our anniversary..."
"I know why. It's because you always ask for things on these dates, and I get depressed because I can't give them to you, and then it all starts."
I'm 29. I live with my husband of 2 years in my mother's house. I sleep in a bunk bed. My mom not only insists on doing, but folding my laundry. Including my husband's underwear.
It's interesting what you take for granted, being married. You assume you'll have a place of your own, you'll pay bills and go to school or work or both. You'll look at each other and go, well, we're in our twenties now, but in ten years, things are gonna look great.
We knew we'd end up losing our apartment. It was just a matter of time. He wasn't working, I only had a part time job. We put it off for as long as we could. Mostly because it seemed too ridiculous to bear - our first home together? Nah. It was there for good.
We spent the first part of June moving out in bits and pieces. On our last trip away, after we'd locked up and dropped off the keys late at night, my husband got in the car and cried. I did too, but only a little - I'd been crying all month, and I was already prepared for that moment. All I could do was remind him over and over again, "We'll be fine. I love you. We'll be fine."
Up until the move, I kept telling him every time he got depressed, "It'll be fine. As long as we have each other, it doesn't matter where we go."
It's kinda a little bit bullshit, isn't it? We both knew it, too. And even though he's in a great program in school that will give him a wonderful shot at a well paying job when he's done, for another year, we're still in limbo.
When we got together, our assumed gender roles fell into place really quickly, I'm a little ashamed to say. Being married brought out the dormant provider in my husband and the way, way dormant nurturer/domestic goddess in me. He loved giving me things, I loved making our lives more beautiful and comfortable.
Now, I have no home to spruce up. No kitchen of my own to cook in. And he has no means of income. Love is literally all we have. And yes, the answer is, it's been enough. It is technically enough.
According to one of our songs (yes, we have an entire album's worth, because choosing is hard), love is all you need.
Just barely. Saying "I love you" to each other nowadays seems to be code for just hang on.