Ten years ago this month I moved in with my then-fiancee. I'd moved to her hometown a few months earlier, acquiring my own apartment, but the arrangement seemed silly, given that we were spending pretty much all of our nights together.
But it was different actually living together. Her apartment was small, and there were no real seperate corners when we fought. Which, of course, we fought, though that didn't for one minute make me doubt my feelings about her, or my intention to marry her. (Though, in retrospect, maybe the Vegas wedding was a bad idea...)
When I go on about her, or us, or the marriage, it's not because I'm still not over her (though I have a string of ex-girlfriends who'd claim otherwise), but because I'm still not over what she represents: One time in my life when I absolutely believed in what I was doing, when I took a huge chance on what felt so very right.
My life, God knows, is a string of bad decisions, but most of those I recognized even at the time. This was different. This was my shot at happiness...and it blew up in my face. Every relationship since then--hell, every aspect of my life--has had me second-guessing like crazy. At least, up until I met Tabbatha. I was certain about that one, too, and...
Fuck.
Here's Was (Not Was), featuring guest vocalist Frank Sinatra Jr. (!), laying it all out. Yeah, you do have to be courageous to play the odds that love will win. Of course, the house always has the advantage.
