Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Love is Either a Many-Splendored Thing – or it Stinks

Last night I was looking at Facebook and read a post by someone announcing that she and her husband of barely three years were separating. Wow. People really post such personal information like that on Facebook?

Yeah, I suppose they do. Sometimes it’s like riding a relationship roller coaster as I watch friends change their status from “In a Relationship” to “It’s Complicated” and back again. Sometimes they get back with the same person and other times they start dating someone totally new. Teenagers I can understand – but people in their 40s and 50s? I almost feel like asking for a score card so I can keep track.

But even if I had a score card, I would never risk commenting on those kinds of posts. I don’t want to congratulate someone on getting back with their significant other only to find out they’re dating someone new. That would be a big oops.

But it seems like there are a whole lot of unhappy people out there. On the radio this morning, I listened to a DJ giving tips on how to keep romance alive in a relationship while the other DJ, who has apparently been married for a zillion years and finds absolutely zero romance in his marriage, cynically recommended divorce as a way of rekindling romance…with someone new. And I don’t think he was really joking.

Sheesh. Makes you wonder about the sanctity of marriage sometimes.

I also read a blog this morning by a housewife-type person who shall remain nameless who was having a “bad relationship moment” with her husband and needed to vent. Or maybe rant. Either way, it must have been a big problem because I vaguely recall seeing the word “poison” in her blog. I suspect that it was written in jest and that she wasn’t really plotting his demise. Or at least I hope she wasn’t. Besides, it’d be hard to refute the whole premeditation thing when the evidence is clearly out there in cyberspace. But just in case, I think I’ll wipe my memory banks clean. That way, I can’t be called on to testify for the prosecution.

And then the other day I had a conversation with an old friend who is going through a painful divorce. When I asked him how it was going, he responded, “You don’t even want to know.” What I do know is that it hasn’t yet been finalized despite nearly two years of separation and court negotiations because it has gotten ugly and neither side can come to terms.

That just makes me sad because I clearly remember his wedding day and the happy years that followed. What went wrong? It’s hard to say. I only know that my friend deserves to be loved and I’d like to see him move on with his life.

But sometimes “ugly” doesn’t even begin to describe marital discord. This morning (after the “Keeping Romance Alive” segment), I listened in horror to a news report about a woman in California who drugged her estranged husband and cut off his, well, his private part. And then put it in the garbage disposal and flipped the switch.

How sick is that?

Obviously, I don’t know any further details. Like, what prompted this woman to do such a heinous thing to another person, let alone someone she promised to love and cherish all the days of her life? Maybe there was mental illness or abuse involved, I don’t know. But I also don’t know how people can be so cruel to each other.

I might have mentioned before that I’m one of those overly sensitive types – so all these stories bother me. A lot.

Probably I should just focus on my own marriage. It’s good. We’re both happy. We’re looking forward to celebrating our second wedding anniversary in September – and we’re both surprised by how easy life together is.

I’m especially surprised. No, not because he sometimes leaves his dirty socks on the floor and I haven't gone into a homicidal rage about it. I have, after all, been known to leave shoes lying around on the floor from time to time. (Shocking, I know…)

No, it’s mostly because I was a single woman for a LONG time. Years. Decades, even. And that whole “set in my ways” theory definitely applies. But the adjustment to living with Vince was pretty easy. I figure it’s just because I finally met the right man – and it’s so worth it.

Even if I do have to pick up his dirty socks off the floor sometimes.

Besides, he makes me breakfast every morning and makes sure I take my vitamins. He gives me neck rubs when I have a headache. And he tells me he loves me every single day – both by his words and by his actions. So how could I not love a guy like that? Dirty socks on the floor notwithstanding.

Maybe I should tell him how much he means to me.

Or maybe I just did?

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