But it doesn’t end the way you’d expect.
I was 24 when I got married. We had been together five years, through long-distance, an across the sea military deployment, as well as all the regular ups and downs of an early 20’s relationship. We were finally adults, with a house, actually two, grown-up jobs and a bright future ahead of us. We had been so in love, so happy, and rarely ever fought.
And then slowly it changed. Two years into our marriage, and seven years into our relationship, I began to feel upset, angry, and stuck. My life wasn’t what I thought it would be and I wasn’t happy. In fact, I was miserable and my husband knew it. I had never been one to gush about my feelings, but I had also never been cold. In those first few years together, I became stiff, distant, and cold. I was quick to pick a fight and hard to please. When I would laugh or appear happy, I felt like I was being fake and just playing a part.
On the day of my confession, we went out to lunch. We stopped at a shop and browsed around, and I headed off to a movie with a friend. My friend and I were going to see Eat, Pray, Love, based on a book many had read, but I hadn’t had the chance to. I had been too busy with grad school, planing a wedding, and working to pay off debt to buy a book, never mind read for fun. Life had become a bit routine and yet hectic at the same time.
I headed off to the movie, excited to watch the story unfold. I was in yoga training, so I figured it would be fun to see a woman travel on a journey to India and Bali, where she meditated and practiced yoga. What I didn't expect was to relate to her so much. I didn't expect a lump to build in my throat and need to fight the urge to burst into tears five minutes into the film. I didn't expect I would relate to the feeling of suffocating and the need to leave a loving husband to set off on a new adventure alone.