When the Honeymoon Ends

Sometimes marriage isn't fun.

There. I said it.

A friend of mine once told me not to blog about the bad stuff because no one wants to read it. Bad stuff is a part of life though. It happens. You cry, you scream, you sleep on the couch, and you get over it.

And there are times when you don't. No matter how hard you try.

Because sometimes?

Sometimes it's a one-sided effort. Denial. Obstinence. A refusal to see the other side. Poop.

A big fat flashing FAIL in the communication department.

And guess what?

Sometimes it hurts. Hurts so bad you cry until your eyeballs wave white flags screaming for rescue from drenched sockets. And then, you cry some more.

You feel a tiny crack in your chest and you realize you just heard your heart break a little.

You text your best friend in the world: "I don't think we are going to make it."

You wipe your face on your sleeve. Feel the sting of the salt in the space just below your eyes. You sniffle. Then you smile.

Your kids are excited because you are taking them out to dinner. A favorite place. You put on a happy face. Because you have to.

Later, once the kids are in bed, and you've had a chance to spill it to your best friend, you walk into the bedroom. You turn off the TV. You face him, and you talk.

You watch his face as he listens, stupefied, uncomprehending, blind. You break it down bit by bit, watch the realization dawn on his face. You see his hands lift from his eyes, revealing red. He's crying. Listening, disagreeing, agreeing, resisting.

It all winds down to the base of the iceberg, the root of the giant tree, the real schmeal.

And?

He disappoints. You realize that he really doesn't care the way you think he should, the way you want him to, the way you need him to.

You realize that you will forever be competing with her, the ex, because he doesn't have the balls to stand up for himself and you and make her accept that you are now a family and she isn't in it. You realize that you (and your kids) will forever be the one making the small sacrifices while he runs off with money you don't have to play with 2 other children you never get to see. You realize, though you don't want to, that he will never, ever see those things you did as sacrifices because they had no affect on him. You realize that those boys will be grown adults before he ever steps foot in a courtroom to fix it. You realize when he says you can't go with him because he needs to focus all his attention on the boys, yet stays in their house and deals with their married mother weening herself into everything they do, it's really because he doesn't want you to.

And for the first time in the 2.5 years since they moved out of state, you wonder how much longer you can put up with it.