All happy couples are alike — but all freaky couples are freaky in their own way.
Didn’t Tolstoy say something about that?
I’m paraphrasing — and misattributing, I know — but I think there’s some truth to this principle.
I don’t think there’s a lid for every pot. Some of us are skillets, you know?
That said, I think that there are some people who have leaned into their worst wildest attributes and found someone as awful wild as they are.
In a way, it’s encouraging. I want to be a good person, of course — but even in times of strife, dullness, failure, gassiness, or fear, it’s nice to know that even the squarest of pegs can find non-cylindrical holes.
People even freakier than I am have found acceptance and, in some cases, real love.
In time, maybe I can find someone who can match my freak. (In the meantime, I’m having fun being an iron skillet. Tough, well-seasoned, and full of fried chicken.)