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Our Beautiful and Painful Relationship

I don’t care if my wife leaves me. Why would I want to be with someone who doesn’t want to be with me? Sure, it would break my heart. Sure, I would cry in strange locations at random times for many years. Okay, sure, I don’t want her to leave me. But the bigger part of me wants her to be happy, and I want to be happy as well. So I’m happy for her to leave me.

I love her so much, so deeply. Every time I look at her, or think of her, or stand near her, my body and my mind vibrate with enjoyment. She’s so compelling to me. She’s so vibrant and alive and real. She’s a unique little soul on legs that looks at me with real eyes and thinks and feels and is just wonderful from moment to moment. Did I mention that I love her?

But sometimes she gets depressed or despondent. She thinks that we don’t work. When she’s sad, I still see her sweetness and her cuteness, even when she’s grumpy. Sometimes I remember that she’s being a grumpy little toddler, and I try not to take the negative words personally. After a while of this, I start to think that we don’t work too. But I’m patient, and I think, “this will pass.” And it does pass, and everything is good again.

Later she says sorry. She always says sorry. She doesn’t want to hurt me. She loves me so deeply and could not live without me. That’s what she tells me. I have learned to not grasp at that either. So I think, “this will pass.” And it does. We go through this cycle of up and down, happy and sad. I have learned to remember that everything keeps changing, and to just enjoy the ride.

It feels like being on a boat that is rising and falling on an ocean. We’re still afloat, after all this time, all this time of rising and falling. We’re still afloat after the storms. We’re still afloat after the arguments. We’re still afloat after countless nuzzling sessions, and being silly, and laughing and dancing around like crazy people. We’re still afloat after all that breathing-in and breathing-out, after all that hardcore living.

One day, one of us will die. Then the remaining one will be left, like a small animal, not knowing where our companion has gone; not understanding. How can a little animal understand death? The other one just disappeared. It’s easy to feel angry, angry at someone or something, but mostly we just keep on with life until it’s our time to disappear into the soil too.

I kneel next to the bed and kiss her neck, “It’s 6 am, my sweet thing. You’re so beautiful and special to me, and it’s time for us to wake up. Would you like to wake up now?”

Almost imperceptibly, she nods.

By : Duncan Riach, Ph.D.

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