Unscheduled Therapy

In the month following the wedding, I've been subjected to all the standard, reasonable questions concerning my marriage. By week three, it has become somewhat routine.

Thank you, yes, the wedding went great.
Yes, it was a highly stressful event.
No, life doesn't feel much different than before we were married.
Yes, I have a ring. See?
Etc, etc.

Except at my office, the congratulations seem to always shift to unusual side topics and, on occasion, turn down a dead-end path of awkward social discomfort that no amount of play will permit me to escape gently. I'm fairly confident that it is only marriage congratulations that can change so quickly into one-sided therapy sessions with me on the unfortunate receiving end of a series of must-tell stories about previous marriages and relationships that ended in disastrous wrecks of twisted metal and mangled emotions. "Welcome to the club", one officemate said as he shook my hand and started into the standard spiel: "I love marriage, but it wasn't until my third that I came to truly appreciate it." That seems to be how these lectures start and I'll note that the descent is rapid and uncorrectable. No amount of fidgeting, panicked pretend dialing of a phone, or declarations of intent to walk to an important meeting on the other side of the building will end it early or peacefully. What soon follows this opening consists of bitter recounts of unsuccessful attempts to mold a first love into the person they desired and the heartbreak endured during the final realization that marrying so young was a rushed decision that ended in failure. These acrid tales are always finalized with a forlorn sigh and that unique upwards glance with sad eyes that relays the message, "Oh, you poor bastard. You're going down the same road, aren't you?" I suppose, in a way, these moments are akin to post high school graduation hugs and "keep working hard"/"be careful out there" messages, but I don't seem to ever remember any of these talks digging into darker depths of tales on how a diploma pushed a man to counseling, then the bottle, and finally to AA meetings before he reached bottom. Once word got around that I had just been hitched, a queue of hand wringing men and women burdened by their own albatrosses formed at my office and seemed to stretch into the distance. My pending psychology degree has proven to be of no help.

I've also been equally surprised at how often the topics don't involve marriage. Other personal issues have managed to thread their way into the conversation out of some unusual, burning necessity brought on by the presence of a newlywed. One woman several desks down the hall stopped by my office last week to take the opportunity to congratulate me and to tell the story of how she met her first husband in the office, how everything was stellar at her wedding and during their first several years of matrimony, and how could anyone like me keep working at a terrible place like this and why are workers' insurance costs going up as they keep offshoring more jobs while hiring incompetent contractors instead of employees but they won't let her retire yet? The gear change was that quick, yet the workplace griping went on for another twenty minutes before a subtle and graceful return to how wonderful life is with husband number two. I remained frozen in place with wordless terror until she flashed the universal acknowledgment that her venting was complete, "the smile", which signifies that "I'm okay, my marriage is okay, everything is okay, and you're going to be okay, too". With lifted shoulders, she marched confidently away while enjoying a freshly cleared mind.

Don't take this post as me showing anger over this strange phenomenon and the people airing their life's grievances in these impromptu and unexpected therapy sessions. If anything, I've heard some fun stories that I'll be sure to treasure for years to come.

So, yes, I was recently wed. Have a seat on the couch over there and we'll begin.