I’m not so sure about this whole “marriage” thing.

Recently, I had the…opportunity to experience living with members of the opposite sex. And it was quite an experience.

Due to unforeseen apartment setbacks, two of my close friends were without living quarters for the better part of the first quarter. With an empty room of my own, my two roommates and I gladly offered to let them help out with the rent for as long as they needed.

Looking back, I’ve come to the conclusion that I was obviously not in a healthy mental state. Your honor, I plead temporary insanity.

Like any horror story, things were fine for a while. Little problems started to arise and certain tendencies wore on nerves. Then actual comments would be made. Small disagreements took place more often.

The disputes soon grew from small disagreements to full-on, door-slamming matches, and I was usually right in the middle of it. But the final, end-of-the-line argument takes the cake.

It was the morning of Game 1 of the NLCS. In case you don’t know by now, I’m a little bit of a Cardinals fan. Unsure if my friends knew the situation, I let them know that the game would be on, and I would be watching.

Before I could finish my sentence, they were on the offensive. They fired round after round of “Oh, no,” “You watch sports all the time,” and my personal favorite, “‘One Tree Hill’ is my life.”

The first thought that came to mind was resorting to physical violence. After a few seconds, I realized that idea was irrational – I had no place to hide the bodies. I’d have to go to Plan B.

Plan B, I learned early on in the living situation, is to give women what they want. It gets absolutely nothing accomplished and I’m unhappy, but it stops the complaining. And that’s enough.

So that’s precisely what I did. I gave up, they watched “One Tree Hill,” and I received text messages on my phone with game updates.

They’ve since moved out, leaving me to reflect on the time spent living together. And through it all, I’ve come up with one understanding: the right girl may be harder to find than I originally imagined.

I’m left to wonder if all women are like my friends. Is it possible that I’ll have to put up with such disregard for my feelings for the rest of my life? No, it can’t be.

That said, I’d like to thank my future wife, wherever she may be.

Thank you for tolerating me when a baseball game ruins my entire day.

Thank you for accepting that there’s just no time to go shopping on Saturdays until bowl season is over.

Thank you for getting me the NFL Sunday Ticket package for my birthday, even though it’s the only thing I asked for.

Thank you for letting me skip work because I’m “sick” for half the month of March.

Thank you for not hassling me when I cry after my team is eliminated from the playoffs.

Thank you for forgiving me because I will, inevitably, tape over our wedding video with a sporting event.

Thank you for taking a family vacation to Boston when you know the only reason we’re going is so I can see Fenway Park in my lifetime.

Thank you for not getting too angry when I say I’d trade my wedding ring for a Cardinals World Series ring any day of the week.

And, finally, thank you for understanding why we can’t watch “One Tree Hill.”

Nathan Grimm is a sophomore in ALS. He can be reached at [email protected].