Marital Bliss or Synopsis of a Marriage

  They fell head over heels  over feet and knees in love.  In a bad, bad way.  So
unbelievably hard and real that neither of them, romantic though they both were, had ever seriously imagined it could happen.

  But it did.  She, a young college student on her junior semester abroad, he, a young working man, already leading a more or less 'adult' life.

  They saw each other for the first time and felt all the symptoms known to lovers since the cracking of dinosaur eggs, ages and ages ago.

  Dark green eyes looking into deep brown and that was it.  "Love at first sight.'  Love at any sight, any time, any age, a truly miraculous, if extremely abstract, thing.

  So.  What happens next?  Oh, the usual.

  They go out together.  Of course.

  They realize that they are both the eldest in their respective families and are sad to learn that both their moms died yound (31 and 51); and that both dads remarried.  They have lots of things in common, but with all the ups and downs involved in a clash of cultures.  The easy-going, open-minded American girl has a hard time with the dark, handsome but macho Mediterranean  guy.  But they hang on.

  Getting to know and understand the opposite sex can be hard enough, but add another language, culture and other ideals to that and ther're alot of rough times up ahead.

  This continues for the the next few months, until summer visits, a typical student pastime, separates them for a while.

  Then, back to the States, to finish what was started three years back and finally get that BA.

  Her last school year zooms by, what with studies, waitressing, and friends. 

  Degree .tightly scrunched in her little fist, she finally could race off to the friendly silver beast ready to carry her to the one true love of her life.  Talk about corny!!!

  Moving in together, with solid intentions of marriage which lurk up ahead around some parental bend; they can't just live together forever, or even for a long time.

  But that's ok, it's what they both wanted from the beginning...Weddng bells do not ring, but the ceremony and the reception take place and they are just the happiest little piggies in the stye.

  Life continues and the five thousand daily 'I love you's' taper down to the morning, noon and nighttime declarations that normal people make..  Days go by and life and love and work go on.  He is the only one to work on a regular basis.

  He likes having the little woman taking care of everything at home.  Always available, only working occasionally between pregnancies.  Naturally there are babies.  Four, to be exact; two of each.  How perfect!

  Almost nine months to the day after their vows, comes the prettiest little girl.  Just a treasure of a doll, like daddy, who is soooooooo proud.

  The new mom feels fulfilled, but is happy to know there will be others to follow.  Hard work and utter joy entertwined as one.

  Years later she will be very surprised to learn that he was afraid to leave her alone with her newborn, those first few days after returning home.  Apparently he didn't trust in her  maternal instincts.  But she never has the slightest doubts concerning her love or her capacities to care for her infant. 

  With three and six year intervals, the baby experiences recommence, ending with four; not bad.

  All this time they live happily, yet modestly, in different appartments in and around the town they met.

  With a small inheritance she gets after losing her dad at the age of seventy-one, they manage to buy some land and, thanks to the very competant 'handyman' he has always been, they build a beautiful house, on a nice plot of land , in a great area not too far from town.

  When they start the building he says to her,

'You know, this is a very intense moment for us.  Things can and will get difficult.  Lots of people divorce during this time.  We have to be careful.'

  So she did the best she could to do her job and not bother him in any unnecessary way.  The homemaking, the kidraising, the best friend and lover all at once.  Money was tight, but life was rosy and warm and full of love.

  They do almost everything themselves.  The inheritance doesn't pay for much of anything more then the land.  The house and everything else must be paid for with the mortgage or out of his small salary. 

  They live, breath, eat and drink for that house.  No vacations worth the mention, no 'extra' anything to mention either, but they are happy.  Not just content, but happy to be together, to love and care for their family and still be in love with each other.

  Strolling around the garden one day, showing the plants, trees, flowers and all that grows to her fourth baby, her second little daughter, she walks into the kitchen to find a strange sight on her tv.

  It's after one o'clock in the afternoon, time for the news, so why are they showing a disaster film?  The sound is off, and she doesn't understand, standing there with her baby in her arms, why a plane is crashing into a fuming tower.

  She finally realizes that this is not the latest film to come out of Hollywood.  Horrific though it is.  It's her country being attaked by Lord only knows what kind of scum.

  She starts crying hysterically to her husband on the phone, who hasn't yet heard the news.

  These acts change not only the country which was dealt the blow, but also the face of the  earth; many of its little inhabitants have changed as well.

  They decide to leave the country they are living in, the country he grew up in, and aim for hers, in spite of the bombings.  A few months later their house is on the market and sells fast and well..  But a three week 'research vacation' makes them reconsider their goals.

  Things have changed since she lived there.  The chasm between the rich and the middle class has grown much wider.  The middle classes are dwindling down into poverty.  The race for the American dollar is even worse than it used to be.

  Healthcare and education being the wicked monsters gulping down the American budget into their enormous jaws.

  Leaving behind a decent work situation and lifestyle to go forth into the uncertain where not even the minimum can be garanteeed, with four children to raise and educate...not too smart.

  So they stay.

  And he has what is commonly called a 'midlife crisis.'  Being a government employee with a pretty-much 'cushy' job, has never really been his thing.  They both knew he was capable of much more, so they think, and talk, and think again.

  Changing jobs at the age of forty is one thing.  A total career shift is another.

  With the money from the house sale behind them, he finally decides not to create his own construction company, but to do like his little brother.  Become an independant agent, helping people use their tax money to create patrimony for their retirement income, plus investments.  No labourors in and out to deal with.  Just him, himself, and he to depend upon.

  Plus the good little woman back home, keeping that 'hearthfire burnin', the meat broilin', and the kids amovin', etc.'

  They move into an inexpensive rathole that needs alot of work, but that was her fault; she thought it would be better not to spend too much on rent money since he had alot to learn before starting his new job.  At least six months before that first commission.
The big 'hole' in the center of town is improved with much work, time, and money involved, but only one year later they move out.  Into a rented house this time, where she manages to keep her daughter's feet clean more often, the pollution of that downtown apartment filthied everything much too fast

  The house was just what they needed as far as practicalities are concerned.  Functional, big enough for six, an office for the businessman, and even the room to create a studio to rent out.

  And life starts to seem even better and more enticing.

  Doing an excellent job at work, it starts to pay, and they start to enjoy the different aspects of living the 'good life.'  A cruise to the Greek islands, travels to Argentina, Mexico, China, Mauritius, etc., enrich their lives and those of their children, although not all the traveling is done together as a family.  The job voyages are either done alone or as a couple, and don't include the kids.

  One day, four and a half years after starting this new job, walking alongside a friend during their summer holidays, she realizes that all that she has practically seen of her husband for the past few days is his back, behind, backside, whatever.  Their friends walk together, hold hands, arm in arm, arm on shoulder, but she's always in the back, frequently alone; in any case, never with him.
  Not being possesive or clingy, this was something that she hadn't noticed previously.

  After over twenty years of living together, he decides to stop all affection, and the small, simple gestures that go with it.  No hand-holding, no hugs, not even walking together anymore, really.

  Why?  Because she hasn't 'changed' enough for his tastes.  Her imperfections are starting to bother him so much that he has decided to wall himself up, conciously and deliberately, away from her.

  He has gotten so used to having her around that taking her for granted has become the most natural behaviour to him, like breathing, eating....farting.  How cool.

  Sure I love you, we still sleep together, don't we?  There is no one else.

  But the man she loves, loved, is gone.

  Disappeared between a couple of afternoon appointments with clients who have become the center of his universe.

  They talk, she cries, he cries, he explains, she can't understand.  Everyone has faults, character flaws.  Nobody's perfect, him included.  No more than she.

  But talk in and up , down and around, nothing helps.  His heart has become a petrified stone, immune to her, and well-hidden behind his distinguished ties and suits.

  Time passes, nothing changes.  The kids continue in school and university, all goes mostly well.  He wants her to stay, says (rarely) that he still loves her.

  How easy to love someone who does all the tedious daily work necessary in a household so that he can concentrate on his latest passion.

  WORK, WORK, and more WORK.  An unpaid governess who sleeps with the boss and gets travel and credit card fringe benefits.

  You can't say he's become a cheapskate or anything.  He's always been generous, a natural, if infrequent, gift-giver.  The only thing he's become really frugal with is himself; his time, his affection, his attention.

  She starts to imagine life without him, alone, with one or two of the children; the oldest ones being autonomous and all but financially independent.

  How do things come to this.  She gets sadder and sadder.

  Depression starts to set in.

  Is it possible to die of a broken heart?

  What to do?  Take the coward's way out and end it all?  The bridge nearby could be pretty handy.  But what if it doesn't work; being handicapped for life doesn't really appeal to her. 

  She has devoted her life to him and their children.  Their existence is more lively and interesting than ever before, and it's all coming to a nightmarish halt, one way or another.

    One night, another argument; another stupid fight over the most unimportant of details, which no-one ever remembers afterwards, of course.

  He stays calm, going upstairs, while behind him, emotional havoc is strewn everywhere, in the wake of his exit.

  She can't stand it anymore.  She explodes.  Dishes fly, cutlery is lanced, and the aftermeal clean-up session becomes a disaster in massacred earthenware, windows, plants, and metal objects.  She can't  stop crying, and screaming at the top of her voice.

  The police arrive along with an ambulance, and two strong attendants, who start tying her snuggly into the straightjacket straight out of Gothica.

  The neighbourhood is all in a tither, wondering why the the nice blonde mother of four is being trucked off like this, salivating incomprehensibilities with each hoarse breath.  All that screaching had made her lose her voice.

  He stands there, the husband, seemingly lost, as the ambulance whirls off with lights flashing.  He seems upset, confused, gathering himself together before going into the house to check on the children.

  Luckily, the younger kids, already in bed, have miraculously been spared all of this trauma.

  But they won't see their mom the next morning.  Nor the day after, either.

  She dies of a cardiac arrest at the psych ward that night.  The tranquilizers just couldn't get a grip on that poor lonely heart.

  He stands outside speaking to the people who care enough to commiserate with him.
The bleached blonde puts a hand on his arm, and he invites her in for a drink.