Marriage to Sarah was a waking nightmare for me. She was demanding, loud, and my father chose her for me. He spotted his colleague’s daughter and decided that we would be perfect for each other. Since I had no other bride in mind and I was already thirty, I had to get married. Sarah was in charge of everything in our marriage, everything had to follow her plans and wishes. According to her schedule our first child was born, then the second.
Life ran its course in poverty and failure. There were many bad moments that made it a living hell. I hated my wife, my children, and I had a big fight with my father-in-law. I didn’t think I could ever get over it without a divorce.
My mother always supported me, but both she and my father told me to just wait and be patient. It was as if they knew something, having lived to their age, and they were sure that I too would know the truth when I was older.
And so, the children grew up and separated. I’m still with Sara, but we’re used to each other, we’ve gotten along, and I can’t imagine my life without her. Everything is more or less stable with money. We finally have a quiet happiness that makes life a fairy tale. We are both healthy, don’t need anything, love each other and have no worries as such. Everything is fine. Nothing to complain about for a long time.
It took us a long time to get to this point, but I wonder… do people really feel happy when they’re busy with work and kids and stuff? Or, like me, do they get it in their old age? When there’s nowhere else to run and no reason to.
