Marriage #1. Day 256.
February 28, 2007. Evening. Nowhere, Ontario.
Wife and I are shouting at each other. I'm so angry that I'm sitting on my hands, uncomforable with my urges as I look at that ugly mouth. That sneer curled with hate and anger, shouting and insulting. I picture putting my fist through it, and that scares me.
Instead, I slide off my wedding ring, slam it down on the table, and shout "Shut the f**k up, it's done." I had realized that the marriage counselling wasn't working, the wife wasn't trying, and I was about to hit a woman for the first time in my life. So I dropped the bomb. Dead silence followed.
I stood up, walked out to the garage for a cigarette, and enjoyed the quiet.
Marriage #2. Day 256.
June 8, 2011. Evening. Toronto, Ontario.
Wife and I are walking home from her play. I'm so proud of her. In the last 3 days, her and a writing partner have written, directed, and performed a 10-minute clown skit. We're walking down King St in the summer heat, holding hands and discussing where one's clown originates, and critiquing the other performances that night.
In this relationship, we haven't had a fight with 10% of the fury involved with the dozens in Marriage#1.
This is what a marriage is supposed to be.