FADED VIRIDITY

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

I was engaged in September, and by January 2018 I was a married woman. Yes, I went through with it and before I knew it, I was Mrs. Matthews. Needless to say, it was a fucking disaster. Those 4/5 months went by so quickly that I couldn't get a minute to feel my feelings or listen to my thoughts. I also had little to no say in my wedding preparations except my fully beaded white wedding dress. In all honesty, my parents gave me a fairytale wedding which I appreciated....just not a fairytale groom, which I did NOT appreciate. Speak about the epitome of a ruined love life. Genuinely speaking, I tried to be happy. This was my husband now and I felt that I needed to devote my life to him. And truly I did so to the best of my ability. I stayed with him and his family. He had brothers who stayed there as well- none were married. Our incompatibility was well disguised by this new experience, and under the radar for about 5 months. We got along on a surface level, and focused incisively on trying to keep our family members happy. For the most part of my marriage, however, I felt alone. I was sent to the deep end of the sea with a stranger who was struggling, himself, to keep afloat. He spent most of his time talking about how much money he is making, and needs to make for things he desired. When I asked him about his future plans, I wasn't part of his vision.There was no passion in our marriage, either, and Ryan didn't bother to do anything to improve it. Can you really force passion though? I remember him leaving for work at 8am in the morning, and only returning home at 6pm. After that he would go out with his friends. A new friend, or group of friends almost every night. He would work on Saturdays too, and he would constantly take work calls on Sunday. I couldn't say much because every time I brought it up –he would say he needs to make money to give us a better life. 

I understood where he came from and let it slide on most days. On other days I was just desperate to find some sort of connection with him, and when I didn't get it, I was frustrated. After all, it was still only the first year of our marriage. Surely, we would WANT to spend more time with one another? Sure, I made mistakes too. I had unresolved childhood trauma that I was subconsciously dealing with, and I couldn't shake the feeling of regret. There 75was a lot of pressure on me, a 20-year-old, to miraculously adapt to his living situation overnight. Eat at certain times, cook for the entire family on alternate days, and be presentable for visitors at all times whether I liked it or not. Let'ssay this, marriage needs a lot of sacrifice and compromise, especially from a woman. Leaving her family, her home town, my studies had to be placed on hold and I always had to be in a good mood. It would have been bearable if I had the mental and emotional capacity to deal with the negative comments about me not being good enough or not doing enough. I had to change the course of my entire life. And he? Well, he still got to live where he lived before, continued the same job, saw the same people, went out as much as he had liked. 

Nothing had changed for him, he still lived like a young single man. Not that I blamed him, personally. After all, this is what society dictated. Casting my mind back to a weekend I went to visit my parents a few months after marriage: I vividly recollect sitting on the floor of my bedroom, crying. My mother walked in shortly after and asked what had happened. I explained to her, vaguely, that I was not happy being married. To which she responded, 

'Oh, but Bella I thought you were...' 

'Well, I'm not,' I retorted. 

 'You're just saying that because its new but everything will fall into place,' she replied meekly. 

I brushed away my emotional state, and didn't bother coming forward with any feelings that did surface.Six months had past, and the next six had started. Deep down, I still didn't feel that feeling of he is 'the one'. I was grateful to have companionship, but I didn't appreciate it all the way through. I was programmed to want and need marriage, and as great as it might be, I was not ready for it. It was just that. We were not ready. Maybe, given the time, we would have eventually adapted to one another's spheres, but his family became the active catalysts in our downfall. We made it through our first-year anniversary and a few weeks after that, we decided to sperate. After a sickening month of crude accusations, pointless debates and malicious movements, our marriage ended. My parents took me in, which I am grateful for but it did not come without a price. I was blamed for not making my marriage work. And I got a lot of detest from my mother because of it. She also hogged the limelight and most of my scheduled 76sympathy from others would go to her. It was a painful experience for HER. SHE was in depression. SHE needed comfort. After all, "I caused whatever happened to me, I deserved the outcome". My mother held me in contempt for not confiding in her, or not sharing much information with her. She made me feel guilty for it, and I did. Looking back, I couldn't share anything with her because she was unsupportive and her emotions... unpredictable. She was not a safe place for me to go in time of need. I appreciate and adore my mother, no doubt, but at a distance. Being in close proximity to my parents for a long period of time takes a toll on me. So, that was the price for being welcomed back into my parents' home. It was a nauseating experience, to say the least, and it did affect me in more ways than I could keep track off. But I found a way to escape, even temporarily... 

(ADVICE FROM MY ELDER SISTER)