Like a man struck with horror at a vile physical deformity, or made sick by a pungent unsightly mess, compulsion grips you as you are suddenly faced with the uncomfortable confusion of warped interpretation-distortions and gross delusion abortions.
You feel a little disorientated as though having woken up in a film or fairytale. Did life suddenly become the struggle to persist against some invisible but formidable foe? where hope has run thin yet the heroic protagonist bravely refuses to lose sight of the fading light at the end of the tunnel.
Something feels wrong and you grasp for air and gasp to get a grip on the situation. Truth has been turned on its head and marriage suddenly appeared in the eternal annuls of history as some strange item of clothing that doesn’t yet quite fit, but demands you hold onto a defining hope to grow and try, despite. Stopping for a moment to think.
To gather your senses and sense together, it occurs to you that you are not cold: this garment is not essential as some embodiment of the continued humility to live up to a dusty portrait’s forgotten muffled echoey commands. Eying it up with suspicion one last time, you turn and confront it face to face. A sneer drifts across your face as you thrust an arm through the illusion, it fades away into a tittering laugh.
Suddenly, all around you, the Golden Age turns rotten in your hands and changes into a withered piece of blackened fruit. Soulmates are finally put to rest after an eternity of haunting their wispy unfinished business. Your swan and seahorse continue to mate for life, and your fickle sly cat sneaks out early in the morning and doesn’t return her calls. But this is disinteresting to you because you are a human and you can make up whatever celebration you like. It always used to seem important before to sanctify the rituals based around continued your species, but now living is easy, the need for a solid unit to bring up their golden child is no longer present. You threw this need in the bin along with your bible yesterday because today you’re all grown up and moving house back to reality, away from living in the past. Even nostalgia has grown repetitive and annoying, but the gesture of marriage is still a nice romantic smile that has a sense of belonging amongst your social expectation friends.
You keep your old job going, despite the move, because working alongside mistakes and very general terms has always been most comfortable for you and paid your bills. It always seems to you like you’re ready to get a new one at the time, but others keep instructing you to wait and be patient, to stick to your internalised check lists so you do. They reassure you there’s some magical time when suddenly everything will feel right and there is no more to be learnt. That’s when you can take the plunge, and until then you just keep on trucking, high in spirits alongside your precious naivety because you don’t even know what sarcasm means.
OK, sure but what if she cannot have sex at all there is no drive for it within her or sex is going to be harmful to her asis the case with some women. what then? Do you stop loving her?