The ones who never gave up. There were a lot of times when it seemed like this relationship might not work out—the 32 breakups, those cheating pictures on Facebook, the fact that one partner thinks he or she might be gay. No matter. This couple is so determined that making this relationship work is easier and less frightening than venturing out into the dating world that they will hurdle any obstacle in order to keep that shit locked down. They’ve likely dated since high school, and are convinced that the tickly sensation they felt in their pants during the Sadie Hawkins afterparty sophomore year will one day, undoubtedly, return.

The sexy, stormy ones. These two always seem to be recovering from/continuing an argument about something small, like whose turn it is to scoop the cat box, that punched out and grew into a massive fight about each other’s religious beliefs and how we should raise the children. They show up to a group dinner wearing scowls and tossing catty, passive-aggressive jabs at each other and proceed to “accidentally” kick each other under the table more than once. They eventually slip away to “check in with the sitter,” and return 45 minutes later out of breath, sweating heavily, with their hair and/or makeup in ruins.

The Netflixers. This couple started dating in part because they had separate interests and that seemed intriguing, but now they’ve talked those different interests up and down and have simply run out of questions and answers. Luckily, they’ve found they do connect on a basic electronic entertainment level, so most evenings are spent under Snuggies watching Pawn Stars and conversing minimally.

The “true love doesn’t have a happy ending because true love doesn’t end” couple. This is a marriage built on fairytale promises and not-so-thinly veiled threats. The idea is, I am the best person in the entire world and if this ends, there won’t be a single person on the planet you will be compatible with. Ever. Even if I die. So forget it. At least one partner in this union cannot psychologically comprehend a reality where the prince doesn’t marry the princess. No, in this marriage, flowers can sing, and you don’t get stretch marks when you get pregnant, and conventional sex never gets boring.

The charmed marriage. These two are perfect, from their thoughtful, cost-efficient anniversary gifts to their willingness to drive cross-country three times a year to attend the other’s jambalaya family cookouts (they stop a few times on the way to take affectionate pictures next to road signs that reference their first or last names). Their three grown children have never seen them fight, and they still kiss in public on the daily after 37 years of marriage. This couple has a lot of advice to dispense about love and matrimony, particularly in the vein of, “There’s the perfect someone out there for everyone. This can happen and it’s totally easy—look at how easy it is for us!”

The Olympic marriage. This couple beats all other couples, every time. Oh, you took your wife to Paris for Christmas? How romantic. I took mine to Bethlehem and we stayed in an ancient structure rumored to be the very inn associated with the stable in which Christ was born. Actually we don’t run 5Ks together, we run ultras. Yes, that is 100 miles of running without a break. We try to fit one in monthly. Her boobs and his penis are bigger than all the other boobs and penises on the block—nay, the state. It’s not that we have to prove that we’re happy together. We just can.

-Natalie Berkley

Photo by Harley Allkins (Creative Commons)