My first relationship lasted a year and a half. The next two years; the next four years; and my marriage has lasted 22 years and counting. There were all relationships that were very valuable to me. I wish the first one had lasted forever, but it didn’t. I still don’t know why it didn’t. I guess I wasn’t right for her. But that doesn’t help in understanding why.
I’m still married, but I don’t know how successful our marriage is. We’ve been through a lot. Children. Job losses. Depressions for both of us. Mental illness for me. We were distant for a decade and I was so miserable, as was she. We’ve been in therapy together and separately, for years. It is far from perfect, but we get along.
Is that what marriage is now? Getting along well? Being a good team? It could be a lot worse, so I’ll take it, especially for the kids. But there is a part of me that is not fulfilled, a part that I shove away because there is no other way to deal with it that doesn’t have huge collateral damage. It’s easier to do that to yourself than to others. One day I will pay. I have no idea how much.
I see relationships as practice. They are practice for the next stage of this relationship, or for the next relationship. We are never done. Some people can stay happily with each other forever. Some of us may not have that ability. If I choose to sacrifice myself for others, that is my choice, not theirs. I will never say, “You don’t know how much I sacrificed for you.” No one owes me anything for my choices.
But if I want to be happy, since no one owes me anything, not my wife or children or anyone, then I will have to go out and grab it. No one will give it to me. No one will be guilted into it. Only I can overcome my own guilt and lack of self worth and decide I’m worth being happy. And if I don’t, that’s my choice, too. Frankly, I don’t know if happiness is worth it. But there are times when I wish, more than anything, to have a love that will blow my mind out of this world into that other realm I can only fantasize about.