Opposites really do attract... I hope
IT doesn’t count as eavesdropping if you can’t help but hear...
The other day I was on the bus and a girl was shouting into her phone about a date she’d been on the night before. The gist – as everyone on the bus, including passengers on the top deck, could confirm – was that it had not gone well.
Despite being a perfect match on an app, in real life
– hold on to your hats here, big shock coming – it was a different story. They didn’t have the same taste in anything. Whatever she liked – music, food, people, films – he hated, and vice versa. She definitely wasn’t going to see him again. His loss, obv.
It got me thinking. There is, of course, another theory – that opposites attract. I’m not sure whether this is the key to a successful relationship or not, but I’m suddenly really hoping it is... because I’ve realised that my husband and I have absolutely nothing in common. Seriously. Zero.
He’s the most positive man to have ever walked the Earth, capable of finding the silver lining no matter what. If he was trapped inside a burning building, his last words would be, “At least I’m not cold!”
I, on the other hand, am not even glass half empty. I’m more no glass at all, and they probably gave everyone else a really nice glass but left me out because the whole world’s against me.
My husband is sporty – if he’s not at the gym, he’s playing football, cricket or golf. He even goes fishing.
Sometimes it’s almost like he’s trying to be out of the house as much as possible...
I haven’t exercised since PE at school. If you can’t park right outside wherever I’m going, I’m probably not going.
If you had to sum up my husband in one word, that word would be Tigger. He’s bouncy, enthusiastic and super friendly. He’s a hugger, natch. Meanwhile, I walk the long way round to avoid the possibility of bumping into people and having to make tedious small-talk – and by walk, obviously I mean drive (see above).
My husband is physically incapable of not waving at someone he knows – anyone, from his best friend to a man who served him once in a shop 10 years ago – even if he only saw them minutes before.
And me? Put it this way, if there was an Oscar category for Oh Sorry, I Genuinely Didn’t See You There, Olivia Colman and I would be statue buddies. My husband loves cooking, I can do a takeaway or toast. He’s messy, I’m so the opposite he’s started wearing an apron and keeping his utensils in the pocket, because if he puts them down for one second I will wash them up and put them away.
He is basically the Sunshine King, exuding goodness from every pore. His nickname for me? The Princess of Darkness.
But – and needless to say, convinced this will jinx it – it works. Maybe if we were too similar the balance would be off.
If we were too far one way or the other we’d end up topping ourselves... or exploding with joy.
One thing’s for sure – we’d never get anything done, what with all the time we’d be wasting spending waving.
‘‘ Me and my husband have absolutely nothing in common...