Let me tell you a little story about choice.
I got married at the age of 32. This was a conscious decision. Not to search out a rightful partner and marry them, but to make a commitment at an age where I was ready to respect everything it encompassed.
We've talked about what life would look like had we not met; or if (God forbid) something happened rendering either of us spouse-less. And my answer is the same.
It's always been the same.
I would go on living my exact same life, partnerless. Maybe a dog or two, maybe a change of location, maybe a tweak of habits here and there. But mostly, my life would look the same.
And I think that's what life... marriage... partnership is all about. Two people stepping toward one another, closing the crevices of experience and doubt and opinion and individualism to form a cohesive unit. A team. Forging into life as a united front. A choice.
Sometimes, albeit rarely, minute by minute.
Our society and celebrity have lent us to the notion that partnership and romance cannot exist without one another. And while each complements each other, they do not need each other to survive in each second of each moment of life's microcosm. Life is not always romantic. And that's okay. You choose your partner beyond what romanticism will offer you. This is the person you will trudge through the mire and muck with. Your trusted confidant when you can't bear to open your eyes upon the glare of the real world. This person is designed to reach out a steady arm when you're stumbling. When the decisions hold too much weight. When it all just doesn't add up or make sense.
This is your second brain. Your additional set of legs.
Your subsequent heart.
Your only choice.
You choose this person every minute of every hour of every day.
And oh, how lucky you are.
How lucky am I.