Den
After thirty-seven years of marriage, he still says, "Good night, Sweet Girl."
After thirty-seven years of marriage, he still says, "Good night, Sweet Girl."
We were only sixteen when he asked me to marry him and now, after two kids, a mortgage, and sixteen more blissful years together, I wish I had said yes because it was the only time he ever asked.
My boyfriend confused the words "fornicate" and "elope."
I never thought a pie chart could destroy a marriage so quickly.
My wife is self-conscious and overweight after bearing our three children, and I still can't stop tearing her clothes off.
A stunned look came across my peers' faces as the teacher pointed at me, saying that my dad was going to marry her daughter, so I instantaneously snapped, "Not in that way!"
As I looked across the table at my husband and his new boyfriend, I found myself oddly happy for them.
Thinking of my wife, I accidentally said, "I love you" into my boss's answering machine.
The pregnancy scare was just as bad as it was at 17 and in Catholic school at 25 and engaged.
That day my high school roommate opened our bakery alone because I was getting ready to marry her brother.
We didn't wait till our wedding night and we were a little late for our reception.
Seeing the unborn child sparkling in my husband's eyes I shrugged away and curled up in my bathrobe to finish the novel I didn't want to read.
I let him buy me cigarettes and beer, but never a ring.
My Chinese grandfather was upset that my father was marrying a white woman, but he was more upset that their first car was Japanese.
When I bared my soul and told my husband that I wanted to be calmed by the sound of running water while I sleep, he told me to get my pillow and lay down next to the toilet.
I got married at 16 because I was pregnant, at 21 because I was rebounding, at 29 because I was in love, and at 45 because I was an idiot, but this time, at 56, I'm marrying for money.
When I was finally able to relax after pushing for 30 mins, he said "Good news, you didn't poop!"
After months of separation and pain, my wife, who was a high school teacher in North Carolina, invited me back home only to have a high school student in her bed when I arrived.
For some reason I found it incredibly funny when my white grandmother held my black hand and whispered to me, "You know, I was really disappointed when your brother decided to marry a black woman."
I knew he would ask me to marry him if I could only find 64 marbles.
A barren womb may destroy more than just the dreams of a life that never will be.
The only intimacy that I can share with my husband are stolen touches in the span of two hours once a week.
I was ecstatic to see my husband NOT pour himself a drink when he got home from work.
Though he thinks he's got me over a barrel because my religion won't allow me to divorce him, he's going to be very shocked when the papers get there next week.
In January we got married, in February we bought a house, in March we took in a 14-year-old boy, and in May I'll turn 22.
Despite what most people think, I didn't marry my wife because she is Chinese.
My mother didn't realize that teaching me to fight, shoot, and play pool made it hard to find a boyfriend without tattoos.
When I tell people I'll be getting married at 22, they look at me as if they expected me to be more intelligent than that.
When I told my wife what had happened, she laughed dismissively and said that the girl had probably learned how to do it at camp.
As I opened the hotel room door to go meet him in the lobby, I knew that at that precise moment I was about to ruin my marriage.
Mom and Dad were separated prematurely as teenagers by her father, and it took a lifetime, several marriages and children for them to find each other again and be happy.
It wasn't until after we broke up that I knew I'd marry him someday.
The moment she screamed at me the day after I became engaged to her son was when I realized I was getting much worse than the sterotypical mother-in-law.
"Staying together for the kids" gained a whole new meaning last night.
After just two months, I want to marry her but I still haven't even told her that I love her.
We've been together for three years, but we don't consider ourselves lesbians.
"Cheating" makes it sound like there's malice and intent to deceive, but it's really more "stepping out," where I just need some fresh air.
I cried as we were married, but he wanted the cheaper insurance rates.
I asked him twice to get mustard, but he drove away from the window without even bothering.
I can convince myself of anything, but it's a stretch to think that it's not cheating just because I'm no longer screwing you.
When I told my husband we needed to go to WoWA (World of Warcraft Anonymous), he asked me if the website had good cheat codes.
Forty years ago at the bus stop, he said, "I don't know what else to do with you, so I guess I'd better marry you."
Even though I love him, I close my eyes and pretend I'm already asleep when he gets into bed.
When I got bold one day and kissed my best girlfriend on the lips, I realized I loved and longed for her, not my husband.
Hitting the turkey buzzard on the way to our wedding was the first indication we would never last.
I used to have nightmares that he would leave me, but now they are fantasies.
One week ago, he made me smile with a dozen different colored roses and this morning, my husband made me cry by walking past me out the door without as much as a goodbye.
One of the things that brought us together was our mutual dislike of marriage and children, yet the more I got to know him the more I thought I might not be totally opposed to them if they happened with him.
I got back together with my unfaithful wife when my online lovers decided they didn't want to be in a family with me after all.
My husband's new best friend is the guy I lost my virginity to, 21 years ago.
Sometimes, weddings where you don't know anyone are worse than funerals where you know who's in the coffin.
He told me as far as he was concerned we were married, then he died of AIDS.
When she couldn't stare me in the eye's while saying her vows, I knew then, I loved the wrong one.
During my final exam, I plan to ask my girlfriend/professor to marry me.
After 10 years of listening to him mourn it turned out his first wife wasn't dead, she'd left him.
Counting the words on the Absolut bottle was my mantra as I awaited the arrival of the coroner.
I am pregnant with my husband's child, so I will never get to be with the man who is the mirror of my soul.
I was suddenly uninvited from my step daughter's wedding so the man who had brutalized her mother for 25 years could show up in a borrowed suit and later depart after the reception without even saying goodbye to anyone.
I used to have a lot of space and no wife, now I have no space and a lot of wife.
I never thought that laughing into another man's shoulder would classify me as a whore.
When I told my husband of 17 years that I didn't think he knew me and I wanted a divorce, he asked me "Are you a lesbian?"
It wasn't until my 3rd marriage proposal in 2 months at the ripe old age of 12 that i decided living in an orphanage in Venezuela wasn't going to be so bad after all.
He asked me if I would marry him, and it was then, the second I said yes, I knew that he was not the love of my life.
This month began blackly with a death and ended radiantly with a marriage.
I now work for the TV production company who produced the programme on which I met my wife.
I'm getting married in 12 hours, I can't sleep, and I couldn't be happier.
I thought it would be wonderful; twenty years later my life is shattered.
She knows their hearts belong together and she knows how lucky she is.
We're going to marry, she simply doesn't know it yet.
I should have known it was doomed when we fought desperately on our honeymoon.
"It'll never work," he said -- the friend who gave me confidence, courage and class -- but, three years later, I'm marrying her, and I'm the happiest man alive.