Searching and Servitude

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marriage. ugh.

My homepage this morning shared with me the breaking news that Chris Pratt and Anna Faris have separated.

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I’m not devastated about this in any form or fashion, but it does make me sad because pretty much anytime someone breaks up, you know there are hurting hearts, and that’s a sad thing.

They were pretty cute together, I confess. At least, with the extremely limited amount of voyeurism I allowed myself. They had some sweet and silly instagram stuff going on, and there are some clips from late shows where they confess their affection. They were cute and I liked that because I like seeing people in love.

rs_634x1024-150112114908-634-2anna-faris-chris-pratt_ls_11215

Also, I thought she spelled her name with one ‘n’ and his last name was Prater. This how little attention I spend in this direction.

 

But moreover, I’m sad for the couples that find it so crucial to put up their couple-y front for the world yet feel so distant inbetween the selfies. And that’s a hard thing with social media, because who wants to see how the sausage is made?

sausage making

Here’s my marriage selfie. Ugh. So. Much. Work.

 

 

As I get older – and I’m only 38 – the more and more I realize the true catalyst for the divorce in my first marriage: neither of us tried very hard. Now, in the end, I think we both tried as hard as each of us were capable to try to save it. But there wasn’t a whole lot of effort from the first day till the shit hit the fan seven years later. I think we coasted thru a great many days and months and years, clinging to vows and early twinges of high school crush emotionality. We didn’t seem to care too much how the other’s day was, and we stopped learning about each other pretty early on. There was a lot of assuming going on, the greatest assumption being: we’re-in-this-for-the-long-haul-so-therefore-we-will-always-be-present-and-by-being-present-I-mean-physically-being-here-but-maybe-not-a-whole-lot-else.

There was a lot of co-existing going on. At least, that’s what I think. Someone else may think otherwise.

I think this is pretty common.

‘Cause life, I guess.

marriage as roommates

Recently I met up with a long-lost friend for coffee. He’s going thru a divorce because he was done with co-existing. He asked me how married life is the second time around. And here’s what I said (literally):

Uhhhhh.

Hmmmm.

<quiet>

<quiet>

<quiet some more>

It’s….uh….it’s alright, I guess. I mean, it’s good – you know. But it’s hard. My god, marriage is such hard work.

<long pause>

I never worked at it before, you know? Which is probably why it’s extra hard now because I definitely don’t want that to happen again. But I could feel myself starting to get a little lazy in my caring and my interest, and that’s dangerous. I don’t want to co-exist. I want to know and be known. And my god, that’s hard. It requires so much more time and attention than I ever thought possible. And it’s not like I don’t like the work (although sometimes I wish there wasn’t so much of it), but it can get a little exhausting.

But it’s worth it.

I chose wisely this time. Alex is a good partner for me, and I’m glad we chose each other. And everyday I choose to choose him, if that makes sense.

We laughed at my struggle to answer the question.

I also think there are lots of couples who work very hard and are like ships sailing past one another in the night and it just doesn’t work – I think this happens too.

But more often than not, I think our level of interest in our partner wanes, and House of Cards is our way of being together (which is really just being next to eachother, if you get what I mean), and we go thru the motions but the heartfelt connections are few and far between.

The inquisitiveness stops. The learning dissipates. And the distance grows, which is just the loveliest space for resentment to take root.

in the bedroom

So good luck to Chris and Ana as they figure out their way.

In the meantime, I’ve got my sausage machine and my sous chef. It ain’t pretty, but for the most part, it’s fun.

I think I’ll keep him.

For now.

curtsy

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This entry was posted on August 7, 2017 by in Uncategorized.

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