Something nobody has asked, is, do I want to fall in love with him?

Because the answer is no.

I don't see the point.

I didn't want the marriage in the first place, but I'm in it, so I'm making the best of it.

Don't get me wrong, I ended up with a pretty decent guy, and yes, I'm thankful for that. I'm grateful for the roof over my head and the food in my belly, and my daughter. I am thankful that I am not oppressed, and that he indulges my hobbies of reading and crocheting. I am grateful that he is kind, and I respect the fact that he works hard to provide for the family. I respect that he is willing to grow.

As for me, I simply have no "fight" left in me. I am exhausted from trying to manufacture a "spark" between him and myself, because I know it's "supposed to" exist in a marriage.

I know what that chemistry is, and I know what it is to joyfully and wholeheartedly serve out of love. I know what it is to want to submit and serve, because I want to lift the other up, out of an overflow of God's love for me. Not subservience, but a powerful association of equals. Perfect? No. Sometimes infuriating? Yes. Painful? Sometimes. But synergistic, not parasitic or mechanical. And no, it wasn't a "romantic" relationship.

That was a long-standing friendship, pre-dating meeting my husband, which I gave up for the sake of this marriage, because said friendship was condemned as being a "slippery slope," etc, and a danger to the marriage, and my husband was uncomfortable with it. And still is, even though it's no longer a thing.

That relationship was not viable as romantic because he was married when I met him, albeit out of similar motivations as I had in marrying my husband. Before I knew he was married, I was aware of a point in time when my heart and soul said with finality, "this one." This one, I chose to love. Not in the romantic sense, necessarily, (no lust, no need, and no sense of pressure or obligation) but unconditionally, though the relationship itself was conditional.

Over the years, the friendship challenged me, pushed me to grow. Forced me to examine myself, my opinions and viewpoints, my attitudes, without making me feel inferior or ignorant. The friendship lit me up from the inside out, made me want to be better. There were no warm fuzzies, and to be frank, at first, I would just as soon have hissed at him as spoken to him. Because he was a cop (and I hadn't had any good experiences with cops) who was assigned to my case when I had a bunch of stuff stolen several years before I met my husband.

Anyway, all that is to say... had my friend and I both been single at that point in time, well, we wouldn't be having this discussion. I'd probably be having a, "this man and his behavior is driving me crazy, how do I handle it" discussion. (Haha. It's a human nature joke. Because it's true.) But those are challenges I would have leaned into, because although it would have been difficult, it would have been what I had wanted, freely chosen, and because I wanted to fight for it, even when it made me cry.

Obviously, that couldn't happen, and I have a different set of challenges. I get that. I accept that. I don't hold that friendship up on a pedestal, or idolize or idealize it, because like I said, every relationship has its own problems. Every one has its frustrations and obstacles, because every one of us is human.

That person, that relationship, is something I had to let go of, because, guess what, I married someone else. And because the effects of that friendship weren't one-sided.

But I know the difference. And I feel sorry for my husband, because he knows all of this, too.

By lying to him and marrying him, I cheated him out of the opportunity to have someone who loved him like that.

Last edited by ImpossibleGirl; 09/09/16 02:57 PM.