Marriage is hard. It's hard work.You think you know you spouse and there's a trigger and this new person emerges and you say to the inner you, "Aha!there! there he is, the you i haven't met". You either cringe or you smirk or you shake it off. Marriage is hard because in addition to everything you intend to achieve and which you have planned out, you have to keep your spouse happy. Anyone who told you that isn't your responsibility lied because if he isn't happy, you most likely won't be. So you work your ass off for his benefit and run two more miles for him too and hope he is easily pleased else you are bummed.When you realise you are bummed is when you see it's not as easy getting out of as relationships, a relationship where there is no legal bind. You walk in and you stroll out if you are done. That's the bummer about marriage, you love him and won't walk out so easily. There are too many things you miss when you guys aren't talking. The banter, the snuggles, the laughs, the gossips, the healthy argument, the love making, the sleep time. You miss all of it and more. And you look at him and sigh and count down to when the ice will be broken and you guys are chummy again.
So what then is love when i won't speak to you even though we live in the same house and share the same bedroom and the same wardrobe and crap in the same toilet bowl. Love is when someone's happiness matters to you as much as your own. It is when we are both unhappy and still not talking, when i won't discuss you with a friend without having that lump in the throat that makes people cry. I am not going to concern myself about the very numerous definitions of love I have seen, this one appeals to me more. If my happiness is not of importance to you, then what are we talking about? So even when your spouse is being a top class jerk and totally getting on your last nerve and acting like your screwed cos' your ass is his now, you chill and you wait it out.
Marriage is hard but it's worth it because i love you even when you are being mule- headed.
