I married a gamer. I knew he was a gamer when I dated him, I knew he was a gamer when I married him. He was, is, and always will be a gamer.
I was raised in a home where video games were banned. We went outside and shot hoops, hopped on the trampoline, and rode bikes. We played cards and board games. We sang and cooked.
I always swore I would never marry a gamer. My brother Sean always teased me when I said that and threatened that one day I would eat my words. I'd punch him, or call him stupid.
Nailed it. I married a gamer. I had to eat my words. Why did I do it?
Sometimes I'm not sure why. Sometimes I get frustrated at how alone I feel for an hour or two or three or four while he "unwinds and relaxes" over a game. Sometimes I wonder why I let myself sign up for this.
More times I feel like the most beautiful and important person in the world. More times I feel appreciated, respected, trusted, and adored. More times I feel safe, protected, honored, and supported. More times I feel stubborn, unnappreciative, and still patiently waited upon. More times I wonder why he let himself sign up for this.
I married the most patient, loving, adoring, sacrificing, affectionate man I know. I didn't marry him because he's the only one for me. I married him because he tries to love me harder than anyone else ever would. I married him not because we're the most alike or compatible, but because he deserves all the happiness in the world, and was willing to give a shot at reaching it with me.
Sometimes a boy just needs some time to play with his toys, I guess.
Even if I don't always get him, I still got him.
And I'm never letting him go.
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