Dropping like flies
The common refrain: He/she just up and said that he/she doesn’t want to be married anymore.
Um, OK. I don’t want to be an old fuddy-duddy here, but … that’s it?
I hate to say that I wish that there were affairs going on to push things or something in the way of irreconciliable differences.
Just not wanting to be married anymore – that’s sad.
We had close friends married the same day we got hitched – Oct. 7, 2000. They’ve been split for a couple of years now.
Another couple whose wedding we attended on the walkup to our own that year – ditto.
Another that we met three years ago who have one kid and another on the way – Splitsville.
Thing is, they’re all great people. Which is what makes it so difficult. We’re not talking people who got married when they were too young and grew apart as they grew up. (Like my parents, teens when they had me and early 30s when they broke apart.) We’re talking nice people, professionals, college-educated, et cetera.
Is it something in the water? (I’m going back to an all-fizzy-product drink diet just in case.)
Seriously, I don’t get it, and I don’t want to get it.
I love my wife more today than the day we got married. I am absolutely certain that I am a better man for her saying yes to my marriage proposal and consenting to spending the rest of her life with me.
If you’ll excuse me, I need to go kiss her madly to show her how much she means to me.