A Good Marriage

by Kimberly McCreight

You fall in love with them. But you fall even more in love with their idea of you. You feel lucky. Because you are lucky.

Then time passes. You both change too much. You stay too much the same. The truth worms its way out, and the horizon grows dark.

Eventually all you’re left with is somebody who sees you for who you really are. And sooner or later, they hold up a mirror an...

“That’s the hardest part about marriage, isn’t it?” Zach went on. “Somebody else’s problems become your own. It doesn’t always feel fair.”

In a blackout, a person—your husband, for instance—stays completely ambulatory, going through all the regular motions, albeit clumsily. He does not seem “passed out” in the least, though he is not “there” either, because the most essential portion of him—the him you love—has effectively vanished. Leaving you speaking to someone who looks like your loved one and sounds like your loved one but is not him in any meaningful way.

the worst part of marriage was the way somebody else’s problems became your own.

And in the end, wasn’t that the key to marriage? Learning to pretend that a few unspoiled things could make up for all the broken ones.

A good marriage is the one that survives. And none of us will know that until all is said and done.”

“Low expectations.” Sarah winked. “They are the key to happily ever after.”

“Sometimes it can be easier to pretend something isn’t happening if you keep it to yourself.”

“Forgiveness is a side effect of love,” he said finally. And sadly, almost. “If you are going to be married, share the ups and downs of life. What other choice is there?”