Partner marriage: between dream and reality

With role-playing games I was not good never. Well, that's all: it drags a mammoth, and I'm here in this dress, or I dragged the mammoth, and here he is in the sling, you cooked the porridge and cartridges brings, and in the pocket of a bunch of forget-me-nots. Maybe because the play is very difficult and expensive, maybe because the role is too small and bursting at the seams, and we can harder any role.

Now like to say: partner marriage. Great idea. Bad only in that idea. But for the idea, most beautiful, never seen a living person – the one with the diarrhea is replaced by insight, meanness – altruism, and petty nobility. Or even replaced, but somehow miraculously coexist.

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And the point is not that a bad idea: here is my idea of a happy life “catalog”: Sunday dinner, cake with plums, white napkins and handmade glasses on the terrace. And the children suddenly op and don't eat the pie, and demand sausages and guzzle it, you bastards, carrying out of the fridge, and you're going to shout at all, put in napkins, and goodness, and they sit, sit, look askance and wait for the end.

And I think, well and figs with it, I welcome life, the sausages from the containers and spots of ketchup on the table, and plates of a stupid, old flowers, and cracked, and the tea bag and ache in the soul nasty, nostalgia, an unfulfilled idea: they are cheerful, foot talk, important your nonsense talk. And also I think as well, though not as in the catalog.

And here is a partner marriage is this: that we are in bronze, mutual support, respect, mutual assistance, no game seems but to the person do not pass a plate on the floor will not crack, and resentment I need to convey messages. And like a good idea, but it turns out the catalog.

The last 20 years, it was fashionable to set goals. To create an idea and go for it. The last few years it has become fashionable not to set goals. To roll, with a leg up, and be happy, if rolled to the buffet and not in a landfill. Roll and miss white napkins and tea with mint leaves in China.

So life, and love, and children, and business, as I see it is not about the fact that dragging by the scruff online, hard targets, and not about the fact that in the morning to meet the undelivered garbage smile of settlers from Goa. And about the fact that somewhere between the idea and real and life happens. Here in this daily balance between dream and reality it is.

To strive to be a good partner and live in how often you are not the one, to endeavour to raise a happy, successful, and well-developed children, and humility with their negovoto, to write five-year goals to build Empire, and to be able to live with a leaky pipe. Because if that day of the Empire is not everything, it is very sad, but if that day is flowing on the tube – you not better. With the pipe it is easier to live, when on the horizon looms the Empire, and the Empire will be constructed only when the patch pipe.

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Frame from the movie Mr. and Mrs. Smith

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The only relationship I've obtained is relationship search. We're such a couple, each with baggage of their catalogs in the background, and then one will start whining, then the second one will beside, then one will support the other merge, and in the morning Wake up and cooked, and are looking at how to live with yesterday's rachamanim doors, failed romance. When between the dream and reality are not looking for compromise, and the path. And he, the bastard, at everyone, and again, waving their hands and beating on the table with maps and directions, argue, make up, suddenly ominaeshi in the tenderness of understanding and SHeDAISY from its absence.

But to go somewhere together. published  

 



Source: www.womanfrommars.com/way-to-yourself/%D0%BB%D1%8E%D0%B1%D0%BE%D0%B2%D1%8C-%D1%8D%D1%82%D0%BE/