On our first vacation I asked my husband to go with me to visit my friend. Our trip would be short, but enough to catch up.
In spite of the limited days we had, my friend never found time for “us girls” alone. Her hand always resting on her husband’s lap, or sharing a kiss with him, sometimes passionately. In our very few moments alone, perhaps when he went to the bathroom, she reiterated her immense happiness.
I left convinced of her self-proclaimed bliss. Perhaps a little too close, perhaps a little too much PDA, but glad she had found her soul mate and her paradise as she called it. I wonder about me. I was happy, but I never talked about it. Was I not appreciating the cards I was dealt?
Her marriage ended a year later with a list of infidelities by her husband and rocky times she had never disclosed.
Mine lasted 25 years.
Show it. Don’t post it.
It’s a quote I have shared a few times when and after the unrelenting effort some friends put in social media talking about their unbelievable happiness.
Unbelievable. That’s the key word.
When a relationship forces all others in the back burner, when an email from a friend is replied with no more than two lines, when calls and messages are ignored, it’s not a perfect relationship.
You are trapped in an illusion and in the exhausting job of convincing the world of what you are not convinced.
There are no perfect mates. Happiness is made of imperfections, of trial and error moments. It’s made of enough time away to miss one another and sufficient time together to feel confident, but not suffocated.
The (im)perfect mate is an addition and enhancement to your life, not a replacement of it.