(Excerpt from the film Mr. & Mrs. Smith)
Mrs. Smith: “There’s this huge space between us and it just keeps filling up with everything that we don’t say to each other… what is that called?”
For us single women, marriage is starting to look like an out-dated tradition. People get married thinking, “Well, if I end up hating him/her, there’s always divorce”… and sure enough, a month later they’re splitting the house down the middle. So romantic, sign me up! It’s as if right after the “I do” part, both parties let out a sigh of relief that they won’t be dying alone. They think to themselves, “They’re stuck with me.” The P90X DVD starts collecting dust and the romantic gestures start consisting of leaving the toilet seat down and forfeiting that last slice of salami sitting in the fridge. Work consumes most of their days and that quality time that’s supposed to be happening after work hours, is spent getting annoyed at the little things in their spouse that use to make them smile. The weekends are a getaway from the everyday routine, which your partner happens to be an accomplice of, so you agree that spending the time apart and with friends makes the most logical sense. Three years of this sour arrangement and then throw kids into the mix… you’ve got yourselves the foreshadowing of an ugly split.
“It’s okay to send flowers, but don’t let the flowers do all the talking. Flowers have a limited vocabulary. About the best flowers can say is that you remembered.” – Jim Rohn
Catch my drift? You have to talk to each other occasionally. It must be in the fine print somewhere on the marriage contract, probably why so many couples miss it… “We have the rest of our lives to talk and right now the hockey game is on” or “Shhhh, I haven’t seen this episode of Jersey Shore!” Communicating is over-rated because your significant other should know by now what you’re thinking, they should know that you really meant “no” when you passively aggressively said “yes” and they should most definitely know that you love them without you ever having to say it.
You wake up the morning after moving out of your family home and into the transitional 1-bedroom basement apartment, wishing you hadn’t cheated on your spouse with the individual who is now sleeping with your boss. You start to resent the thought of not having a full-time kid, but instead one you get to borrow every other day. And the best part is, you’re back to dying alone! That child you tossed back and forth like a tennis ball for all those years will eventually move away and become your very distant pen pal. All because you were too stubborn or “busy” watching re-runs or instant play-backs to talk about it.
So try it. It may save your marriage… or worse, it may gain you some company “till death do you part.”