But You Seemed So Happy: A Marriage, in Pieces and Bits

by Kimberly Harrington

We always used to say we were so lucky to have met when we did. This was our destiny narrative. We met at just the right time, in just the right place, at just the right age. I would always joke that if we had met in college we would’ve hated each other. I can’t imagine my wearing-all-black, smoking-cigarettes-while-wearing-dark-red-lipstick, cynical, pessimistic self could’ve tolerated for one single second the slightly stoned, very chill, happy-to-be-alive, smiling, skateboarding optimist that he was. And most certainly, vice versa. It had become a bit of an inside joke, a comforting story, between us. But during the year when we were the only ones who knew we were getting a divorce I said, “What if that story was all wrong? What if we met during the only window when we would’ve gotten along? The only time we would’ve fallen in love with one another? What if it wasn’t destiny at all, what if it was just timing? Can you honestly say that if you met me at a party right now that you’d think we’d make a great couple? That you’d fall in love with me? Do you think you’d look across the room and think we were meant to be together?” “No.” “Me neither.”