Another one of my friends just announced her divorce. That makes two in the last month, and I am suddenly out of breathable air.
I have no judgement for all my friends whose marriages have ripped in two… only a desperate sadness that applies as much to me as it does to them. I guess in my mind, we’ve always been in this together. Not just Dan and I, but every person who’s taken the brave step into lifelong commitment. Love strong enough to inspire vows is a marvel, and I adore the thought that at least one person treasures each of my married friends even more than I do. Other couples’ contentment is an airborne love potion for me. It sharpens my focus on my own marriage, on the immense value my husband holds, and I find myself snuggling deeper into security by association. If they can hold tightly to their bond over the years, so can we.
This is why, when yet another Facebook status changes to “single,” I feel like someone has shoved the word into my throat. I taste the tears, the painful timbre of shouted words, and the flat gray of hopelessness. As absurd and egotistical as it may seem, I feel as though I have been divorced as well, at least to a tiny extent. The solidity of my marriage is dependent on no one else’s; this, I know. Yet when another couple’s faith crumbles… it plants the suspicion that I’m wrong about committed love, its adaptability, its storehouse of second chances for happiness. Maybe love truly can grow brittle enough to be unmanageable.
I do my best to pluck these thoughts out the moment they sprout. Logic helps — the sturdy facts that I am myself, Dan is himself, and our marriage is simply ours. No one else’s handwritten vows. No one else’s wedding picture hanging above our bed. No one else’s arguments to slog through. No one else holding me as I fall asleep each night. Besides this, we have the strong relationships of our parents and grandparents to lean into when the wind picks up, as well as the support of so many dear friends. I am grateful beyond words for the trust that pulses every day through our clasped hands. Even if that cannot immunize me against the pain of others’ separation, it is enough to turn that heartache inward and use it to cling even more intentionally to my own brave and hopeful promise.
I am so sorry for your friends. I agree that it is gut wrenching to see a marriage break apart. I only have one friend that has gone through a divorce. It terrified me because her complaints were very much like the complaints that I had in my own marriage (and that many others have as well). I had to push the thought that it could be my own marriage falling apart away from the forefront. In the end, I don’t think she really knew what a divorce would entail, and it was much harder on her than (I think) she thought it would be. She seems happy now that it is over, but it is still newly over. It is so scary to think that our family can be so delicate that it could just be thrown away. I hope that my husband and I continue to fight our way through the hard times and cherish the good times. It is so easy to take everything for granted. It takes effort to notice all the blessings that surround this life. And, just for the record, I think I just said this, but you are living a wonderful love story. From my perspective, it seems like you don’t have anything to worry about.
“Maybe love truly can grow brittle enough to be unmanageable.”…. Of course it can. But that doesn’t mean it has to, or that it WILL. Sad for your friends, and sad for you who care about them, though, that sometimes it does.
Megsie – Thanks for getting it. I do feel like I’m part of a wonderful love story, but it’s a real one… and, like you said, delicate in the sense that it could slip away if we grow complacent. It’s a happy, scary, heartwrenching, and good effort all in one.
Liz – You’re right, it doesn’t have to. Thank you. 🙂
Oh sweetness. It is very startling and heart-wrenching when others’ marriage careen over the cliff. You know, BOTH of the close friends I have made in my new home have gone/are going through divorce. One of them was already in the process (through no choice of her own) and then the other shocked us all. I was completely heartbroken and probably cried more that my sweet friend when she told me. They are so civil that if I didn’t KNOW, I wouldn’t KNOW…
I suppose it just clarified, for me, and for US, that we each define our own marriage. I don’t want to hold us up to some mythical standard. I’m not aiming for the perfect marriage here, but what works for US. (I don’t DO perfect.) Beaux and I are still newbies, in a sense – 4 years married next week – but just the act of creating our own family solidified our commitment. I’m talking concrete solid. I can’t imagine doing everything possible to work it out with him, if only for the sake of my child. (Though I would never live in unhappiness for years on end – that serves nobody.) It helps that I married a terribly good person who I am just crazy about and who loves me for all my maddening ways. I say all this not because I am smug about our relationship…but I just trust that we’ll keep wanting to be together. The thought of not being together is too painful to imagine. I hope it always feels that way, and even if it doesn’t, that we’ll find the strength to pull out our toolbox and work on whatever needs work.