People tend to talk about marriage failure in terms of statistics. Half of marriages, or thereabouts, fail. Yet, divorce, the failure of a union of two people, is a very personal thing.
It's not so bad, or so sad, when two people decide to go their separate ways, but when you add into the equation children, the sadness quotient escalates rapidly.
Sometimes, marriages fail very quickly. Within the year, it's determined it was a mistake; a moment of madness. That's more embarrassing than sad, I'd suggest. All that wedding planning seems so silly.
When a marriage has gone decades, when a couple have watched their children learn to walk and talk, to graduate college and begin careers, to get married themselves, there is an element of the union that seems unbreakable.
Family, neighbors, friends and acquaintances have become used to seeing them together in all types of settings, and who really thinks about what goes on behind their closed doors?
For some people there is a soul connection; a sort of stripping away of the skin and bones, the ego, such that one sees right to the core, and it's a good core; a kind-hearted soul.
Perhaps I am just being my empathetic self, demonstrating my tendency to see through the veneer and down into the body pain that can make people so demonic.
It is said that we make choices. We choose our behavior. There is nothing wrong with this statement until we consider the damage caused to individuals. Maybe they could be better, act better, be kinder, but something holds them back, something dark and deep; scarring that simply won't heal, can't heal.
What if a partner is sometimes rational, loving, kind and reasonable, but sometimes cruel, unreasonable, wilful, headstrong and committed to his own way, despite the hurt that is caused?
What then? What if all the possibilities for a better outcome - looking into oneself, committing to therapy - are simply beyond the individual, for the simple reason that he sees nothing wrong with himself - or does know there is something wrong with himself but would rather die than admit it?
Sometimes, at least in my generation, things have gone so far that one figures one might as well limp along to the finish line.
Sometimes, there is a single moment when one looks at the other raging and thinks, after all the millions of steps, he just went a step too far.
It's not so bad, or so sad, when two people decide to go their separate ways, but when you add into the equation children, the sadness quotient escalates rapidly.
Sometimes, marriages fail very quickly. Within the year, it's determined it was a mistake; a moment of madness. That's more embarrassing than sad, I'd suggest. All that wedding planning seems so silly.
When a marriage has gone decades, when a couple have watched their children learn to walk and talk, to graduate college and begin careers, to get married themselves, there is an element of the union that seems unbreakable.
Family, neighbors, friends and acquaintances have become used to seeing them together in all types of settings, and who really thinks about what goes on behind their closed doors?
For some people there is a soul connection; a sort of stripping away of the skin and bones, the ego, such that one sees right to the core, and it's a good core; a kind-hearted soul.
Perhaps I am just being my empathetic self, demonstrating my tendency to see through the veneer and down into the body pain that can make people so demonic.
It is said that we make choices. We choose our behavior. There is nothing wrong with this statement until we consider the damage caused to individuals. Maybe they could be better, act better, be kinder, but something holds them back, something dark and deep; scarring that simply won't heal, can't heal.
What if a partner is sometimes rational, loving, kind and reasonable, but sometimes cruel, unreasonable, wilful, headstrong and committed to his own way, despite the hurt that is caused?
What then? What if all the possibilities for a better outcome - looking into oneself, committing to therapy - are simply beyond the individual, for the simple reason that he sees nothing wrong with himself - or does know there is something wrong with himself but would rather die than admit it?
Sometimes, at least in my generation, things have gone so far that one figures one might as well limp along to the finish line.
Sometimes, there is a single moment when one looks at the other raging and thinks, after all the millions of steps, he just went a step too far.
I think you’re right, very right! Sounds like we’re in similar spots. I think it’s the best of both worlds, in many ways.
ReplyDeleteSally: Thank for your comment. I'd love to know what you mean by 'best of both worlds'.
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