Before I met Ted, I did not believe in soul mates, marriage, or true romance. Fiction, I thought them. Happily ever after is the creation of books and movies.
The week before we met, I had lamented that I would never meet anyone, as swamped as I was in work.
The night we met, I had said I did not want to go out. I had said I was tired. I had said I could not be bothered.
Then a friend from my teaching days in Japan, who was in town for the holidays, came over to my apartment and coaxed me out. We went to a bar, where one of her friends from university is the manager, and we met up with another of her friends from university, my future husband.
I took him home, and I kept him.
Were these my fairy tale tests of worthiness? My secular form of love thrice denied?
Because I am living in a fairy tale now. It look luck to start our story, and it takes work to keep it going, but it is a fairy tale with all the trappings. Happily ever after could so easily not have happened. I will often make plans to go out, and then opt, instead, for the comforts of home. Perhaps because I did not believe in them, I feel more free to use the old clichés in earnest. Ted completes me, he is my soul mate, and he is my home.