Monday, January 18, 2010

Yes, married.

Why the fact that I'm married is highly beside the point:
Single and divorced women of my acquaintance believe I have no basis for complaint since, after all, I'm married. I hit the jackpot. My life is transformed. I have no right to tell my story, since it is not their story. What do I know of their loneliness and despair? Well, quite a lot more than they think I do.
For instance, does it mean I have an automatic date when I want to go to a movie, or a play, or whatever? No, it does not.
Does it mean I'm never be myself, wondering how I am to fill what can seem like vast stretches of tundra until I am with the people I love?
Does it mean that when we are together, we both feel like using this quality time in the same way? Sometimes he is so dead tired I have to watch him sleep to be with him.
Twelve minutes a day. That's what I read in the New York Times magazine a few years ago. That's how much time a working couple get, on average, each day to check in with each other, talk, keep the love alive. Tall order.

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