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 and you’re forced to see for yourself.

“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.”

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.

Learning to pretend that a few unspoiled things could make up for all the broken ones.

what of the problems you’d brought upon yourself? Was it fair to foist those on your spouse?

That was the problem with pretending to be someone—not even someone else, just someone.

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

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