The Death Wish

In the weeks that led up to our wedding, my soon-to-be husband Ted informed our friends, family, and anyone who would listen of his impending death.

“Death?” you ask.

Yep, death. Death, that is, to his single self.

You know, the self that could buy a new Nord Electro on a whim. Or stay up until 2 a.m. on a regular basis. That guy who worked late into the evening because he didn’t have a wife waiting at home.

Some greet this realization with terror. Not Ted. He wasn’t one of those grooms who shows up at the church with a white face and knocking knees. Nope. He was beaming with excitement, genuinely ready to kiss the old life goodbye and me hello.

Sure, death isn’t the most romantic thing to broadcast prior to one’s nuptials, but Ted was right. Marriage doesn’t jibe well with many of the single habits brought to it.

What I don’t think he anticipated, though, was that the death of old habits is like Inigo Motoya’s infamous hunt for the six-fingered man. It takes a while.

[Read the rest of the article at Start Marriage Right.]