I knew that a marriage isn’t necessarily wedded bliss and that there’s a chance (big or small) that happily ever after isn’t guarantee and/or achieved but I still had hopes. Hopes that my marriage would defy the odds, we would be perfect and that we would never bicker, argue, disagree or share mean/dirty looks. I’m sorry to say that there have been moments when I’ve been upset with my significant other; times when I’ve wanted to cry and run away from my better half and instances where I’ve wondered where the sudden change in the man I’ve promised to love, honor and cherish for forever and always came from. I love him still; don’t get me wrong. I love being with him and I love that we’ve for the rest of our lives together in sickness and in health, for better or for worse. Yet, sometimes, I’m not liking the ‘for worse’ parts.
Before I got married people would tell me that I’m missing out on so much. It’s wonderful to have someone to come home to, someone to cuddle with at nights, someone to share hopes and dreams with, to turn a house or apartment into a home, to have children, grow old and grey together.