Except that's not how we did it.
We worked in reverse. I met my Soldier, and in the middle of falling in lust, I got pregnant. And we were both scared. But we were happy and we cared about each other, and we thought "you know what? We can do this!" So we did. We got married. We dove in head first and knew we could take on the world.
But my idea of marriage, and his were not exactly on the same page. Or in the same chapter. Heck, we may have been reading entirely different books! I thought I was saying I love you. I thought I was saying I'll love you forever. I thought I was saying I'll try to make you happy for the rest of my days. He thought he was saying, I'll be there. He thought he was saying, I'll support you. He thought he was getting a perfect wife.
I am not a perfect wife. I may not even be a good wife. I am quite possibly even a bad wife.
The fights began almost immediately. The displays of affection lessened. And the love wavered somewhere in between here and gone. I can't count how many times I said I wasn't happy. I can't count how many times I told him I wanted to leave. But he either didn't hear me, or didn't believe me. Either way I held on to a love that was barely there. I continued to try to make him happy. And I worried every day that I was setting an example for my daughter that this is all love is. That there is no Happily Ever After. There is just forever together.
I wish that happiness was as simple as yes or no, black or white. But no one decision means happiness. In fact every decision comes with it's own painful ramifications. But how do you decide between your own happiness and that of someone who you love. And why does it have to be a choice? Why can't happiness be an all-encomposing entity? Once choice to suit all parties? Unfortunately, in this situation that will never be the case. I will have to make a choice. And it will hurt, no matter which decision I make.
We worked in reverse. I met my Soldier, and in the middle of falling in lust, I got pregnant. And we were both scared. But we were happy and we cared about each other, and we thought "you know what? We can do this!" So we did. We got married. We dove in head first and knew we could take on the world.
But my idea of marriage, and his were not exactly on the same page. Or in the same chapter. Heck, we may have been reading entirely different books! I thought I was saying I love you. I thought I was saying I'll love you forever. I thought I was saying I'll try to make you happy for the rest of my days. He thought he was saying, I'll be there. He thought he was saying, I'll support you. He thought he was getting a perfect wife.
I am not a perfect wife. I may not even be a good wife. I am quite possibly even a bad wife.
The fights began almost immediately. The displays of affection lessened. And the love wavered somewhere in between here and gone. I can't count how many times I said I wasn't happy. I can't count how many times I told him I wanted to leave. But he either didn't hear me, or didn't believe me. Either way I held on to a love that was barely there. I continued to try to make him happy. And I worried every day that I was setting an example for my daughter that this is all love is. That there is no Happily Ever After. There is just forever together.
I wish that happiness was as simple as yes or no, black or white. But no one decision means happiness. In fact every decision comes with it's own painful ramifications. But how do you decide between your own happiness and that of someone who you love. And why does it have to be a choice? Why can't happiness be an all-encomposing entity? Once choice to suit all parties? Unfortunately, in this situation that will never be the case. I will have to make a choice. And it will hurt, no matter which decision I make.
Holding On
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