10.15.17

Sometimes marriage is flinging every hurtful word just to spread pain and ensure you’re not alone in yours. Sometimes it’s throwing things when you know you shouldn’t, and doing it repeatedly. There’s that anger again, just like when you were a kid. Sometimes it’s threatening to leave because you just want the fight to end though you never meant it. And sometimes it’s walking the neighborhood alone at night trying to hide your tears from the headlights and returning a half hour later still angry and too proud to accept an apology, too proud to extend forgiveness. Sometimes it’s cold war.

But marriage is also a mirror in which to see the parts of you that must change, parts that would never otherwise be attended to. It’s finding hope in “it’ll be okay” because you know you have time; you know they won’t actually leave and never wanted to. It’s soft words accepting responsibility, desiring better for you. It’s going to bed not yet healed but holding each other close nonetheless. It’s finding you still have a best friend more than a worst enemy.