When I was young, everything seemed simpler. Love relationships, dating-it was different. I could go out with anyone I wanted, young, good-looking people would come up to me, but as I got older, everything changed.
I didn’t marry out of love so much as out of desperation. I had been dating a great guy since I was sixteen, but I still wanted him to be jealous, to appreciate me more, to carry me in his arms, and to flirt with others in front of him. I was young and foolish, so I flirted with him – a friend told me that I was cheating on him and went on dates with other people, and he not only broke up with me, but a month later married some unremarkable simpleton who was waiting for a child from him. Since I was offended and wanted revenge, I got married, too. I practically married the first guy I met on the bus.
Our life was going well at first. I even liked him. He was courting and quite handsome. It wasn’t a shame to show off such a husband to my acquaintances or to my ex-husband. But beauty is not eternal – my husband grew older, we had problems with work, and we still could not have children. We lived together in a one-room apartment and quietly hated each other.
My friends started to tell me that my ex-wife was getting a divorce. Suddenly I was desperate to meet him, to remember the old times, my first love… and I realized that I had been a fool. I’d missed out on a guy like that, and I’d married the wrong guy. My feelings for my husband have completely evaporated, and the longer I look at his sagging belly, pigment spots on his face and eternal stubble, the more I want to leave.
What if divorce is the answer? I’ll leave him, and my ex will leave his, and maybe we can somehow get back together. And life would get better at once, and everything would be different.
