This (Expensive) House Is Not A Home

We meet, we’re hot and heavy.

We fall in love, we get married.

Life happens, we don’t investigate it.

Love fade’s, we don’t try and revive it.

Emptiness makes itself comfortable on the bedroom floor, we saw it coming.  

Children happen, we focus on them.

And with marriage and children and emptiness comes the big house.

We go our separate ways in the day-to-day though we remain married.

We fill our lives with friends who relate to our desire for material things and play dates. These friends can relate to the physical, intellectual and emotional void that exists between us and our spouse.

We talk about other people who don’t have what we have.

We relate to the shenanigans of each other’s spouses who play golf and watch football but, gosh darn it, won’t help around the house and seem indifferent to the nonexistent intimacy.

We feel the emptiness growing and so we buy more things for the house.

We fill more of the emptiness with clothes and cars and spa treatments and manicures.

We are with our spouses and there is the occasional peck on the cheek and a quickie when the kids are asleep.

We are with our spouses and the neighborhood click. Everything seems okay and normal because everyone is the token wife and token husband with token roles. Everyone except that weird couple that can’t keep their hands off of each other. What’s up with them?

The barbecues cost money, the new grill costs money, keeping up with the Jones’s costs money but it’s okay because we’re “happy” in the moment.

 

All of this we stuff would be nice except that we did not build a relationship with conversations and a deep rooted understanding of who we were and what we wanted. Instead, we built a relationship based on physical attraction and temporary fun. We then equated these two things to love with a sprinkle of “why not”, “I’m pregnant” or “it seems right”. When the deceleration began, it seemed to hit hard in all areas but we did not investigate it or discuss it. And since we did not really know who was on the other side of that relationship and since we were not really sure if this was right, wrong, normal, or abnormal from other relationships, we just kept keeping on. And so it went; life, love and the pursuit of happiness was a road we tried to carve one house, one car, one blouse and one Vegas trip with the girls at a time. But we were okay because most of our friends were in the same place and we had each other. And our houses!

 

And then it hit us. This (expensive) house is not a home. It has no warmth. The lights are on but the sunlight has packed for a permanent winter. We realize that while we knew there were issues in the house, we tiptoed past them like that awkward guy that asked us to go out with them one too many times in college. We then realize that the weird couple that could not keep their hands off of each other had just what we wanted. They had touch. They made eye contact when they communicated. They had each other.  

 

We wanted that.

We needed that.

We deserved that.  

We talked to our spouse. He did not see an issue.

We recommended counseling. He did not see a need.

We begged him to try and salvage the marriage. He thought we are fine. After all, we had the houses, the cars, the blouses and enough frequent flyer files to get to the moon and back.

We knew better.

We did not need a house that did not feel like a home.

We did not need a fellow tenant, we needed a partner.

We would sacrifice the Nordstrom shoe shuffle for the TJ Maxx clearance racks if it meant that we could dress up for someone that did not see through us.

We filed for divorce.

We traded in the new Acura for a used Honda Odyssey

We signed the lease for the two bedroom apartment that had community washer and dryers

We sat down and opened the $8 bottle of Woodbridge wine and for the first time in forever…

…We felt at home.