Collin is my husband, and my favorite person in the world, but he’s not my best friend. I don’t think he’s even in the Top 5.
Sometimes it feels like everyone else in the world married their best friend. I read it on wedding blogs all the time. I see it stamped on every wedding product you can conceive of, from ring dishes to aisle runners to ribbon to stamps. Sorry, WIC, you can’t peddle that crap to me, because I didn’t marry my best friend.
My best friends get every joke I make. We can goss for hours about the true meaning of a text message, and discourse just as long about The Duties of American Citizens or Comic Books Risking Their Acceptance as a Legitimate Artform or various other topics so important they require capitalization. We like doing the same stuff: bar trivia, board games, spending hours in Eat n Park discussing the movie we just saw ad infinitum, posing for photographs in offbeat Pittsburgh locales. We’ve known each other what feels like forever. We have an almost criminal amount of fun together. We can comfort each other through almost anything life hurls at us, and we have.
[Photo by Mike Rubino]
And sure, Collin and I make each other laugh, we have fun together, we have great conversations on topics both serious and frivolous. Friendship is definitely one of the ingredients of our relationship. We connect in A LOT of different ways: love, passion, easy companionship, devoted-to-the-end partnership. This is why our relationship is strong, not because Collin is The Best of Everything to me. He’s not my Best Masseuse, either, even though I make him rub my neck all the time. I don’t think our relationship is any weaker because other people in my life fulfill certain needs more than he does.
I have to admit I bristle at how often I read “I married my best friend.” [In fact, I pulled up this old draft and finally finished it because of today's APW post.] It’s not just that it’s a cliché that I’m tired of hearing. I ascribe smugness to the sentiment: “Sure, you’re in love with your spouse, but I’m more in love, because mine is my best friend too.” It’s totally unfair, these people are just accurately describing their relationship and I’m knee-jerking into defensiveness. I’m sorry, “I married my best friend”ers. I admire your efficiency in interpersonal connections.
I can’t resent people who married their best friend too much, because my husband is one of them. He tells me all the time I’m his best friend. He even put it in his wedding vows. And it makes me happy to hear. And Collin insists he’s my best friend too, “you just don’t know it yet.” I raise a skeptical eyebrow and let him go on believing whatever he wants to.
Although I suspect that after many years of marriage, Collin will become more and more my best friend. I’ve known my best friends for almost ten years and only known Collin for three. It’s an unequal playing field. But when I think about Collin being my best friend however many years down the line, I feel a little lonely. I want more than one perfect all-encompassing important person in my life.
Who else didn’t marry their best friend? Or if you did, do you ever feel judged by people from my camp for not having a separate best friendship? And while we’re at it, let’s hear it for all those Best Friends out there, whether they’re spouses our or not, for making our lives as awesome as they are.