Incompatibility

On Friday, Dee wrote: A couple of things never cease to amaze me… That for as incredibly happy as we are, we are so truly incompatible.

This never ceases to amaze me, either: you name it, we’re opposites (or, at least, incompatible). I like Seattle; She likes Arizona. She likes country music; I like NPR. She’s loves dancing and swimming and naps; I don’t. I like long road trips (sans naps!) and household things (cooking and cleaning, generally) and creative things (like writing and creating lists and dare games…); She doesn’t. She’s social; I’m not. I like football (and other sports, too); she thinks sports are just plain dumb. I like debating politics, sports, and news; she doesn’t. She’s cheerful (mostly); I’m moody. She likes chic-flicks; I like psychological thrillers. I’m an early riser; she’s not. I like photos of landscapes and scenery; she likes photos of people. Not to mention the sexual compatibility issues I’ve detailed in previous posts!

I can’t figure out why it works. All I know is, I’m glad it does work. I don't actually know any other couple that has things as good as we do.

Still, recognizing this mountain of discrepancies plays a significant role in my underlying conviction that, one day, Dee is going to either (a) wake up and realize I’m not the guy she needs to be truly happy; or (b) find someone that better matches her interests/desires/etc., either by pure happenstance, or through purposeful interaction. I definitely don’t want that to happen, and, in fact, live in fear of that day.

This is almost certainly the main ingredient in my resistance to being open to any exploration that involves another guy. I don’t think it’s jealousy, or possessiveness, but a self-esteem problem of some kind. I mean… there are obviously better matches out there for her… and if Dee thinks she’s happy now…!!! She’s a strong, modern, empowered woman who would find the idea of staying with me when greater happiness was clearly obtainable to be both irresponsible and reprehensible. If I don’t see myself as the true top of her choice ladder, I’d be out of my mind to raise the chances she meets that better match, wouldn't I?

I’m mystified as to why Dee doesn’t have similar worries… after all, her situation is just the same as mine. How is it possible that she isn’t concerned I’ll meet a red-headed, green-eyed gal who is addicted to NPR and can argue the nuances of the NFL Draft with conviction? Someone who doesn’t want to adopt foster kids and stray dogs? Someone who doesn’t distribute shoes and bags throughout the house for me to trip over, and can stay awake in the car?

I’m not complaining about any that (please don’t think so!)… I’m trying to demonstrate how I would view things from Dee’s side. I focus on the differences between us, from the most minor and insignificant to the most glaring and important, and clearly see how much more satisfying, happy, and stress-free Dee would discover her life can be if she ever stumbled upon that better match. And then I worry not about if that will happen… but when it will.

You’d think I was an unhappy person, but I’m not. Even though I can’t figure out why what we have works, I’m glad it does work, and I hope it keeps working for a good long time. I think it will work, and I also believe Dee is happy, and not going anywhere (just as her ability to doze off in a car, mid-sentence, mid-conversation, drives me nuts, but not in a way that has me miserably plotting divorce!). But none of these things will stop me from thinking the way I think. It’s just part of my nature.