The title kind of says it all: I didn’t marry the girl of my dreams. Far from it. And guess what? I couldn’t be happier.
First, let me explain to you what the “girl of my dreams” used to mean to me. You see, I was a twenty something guy in college, dating girls and looking for the perfect woman. In my mind she would be a 10, of course. She had an amazing body, beautiful full lips, and eyes that would stop me dead in my tracks. But let’s not think I was too shallow, I mean… I gave her some personality traits as well.
For instance, she would want to have sex all the time. She also would want to do all that freaky stuff that most folks don’t talk about in their dignified circle of friends.
Also, she would agree with me all the time. I mean, she’s the girl of my dreams, so I never dreamed we would fight. I would have a crazy idea, she’d agree, craziness would ensue. That’s how it would go.
She would also be fun. Oh man, would she be fun. She’d be down for dropping everything and running off to Vegas. She’d want to travel the world, save dogs, start a farm, go to the clubs, and play video games with me. She was literally the perfect woman.
But then I met my wife. And I was smitten with her. Straight up, I couldn’t imagine being with anyone else after the first date I had with her. I didn’t want to freak her out, so I didn’t tell her that right away, but I knew immediately that I was going to spend the rest of forever with her.
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