My wife and I are not on good terms. It’s been less than a month since this started, but we’ve gone over a month without saying much to each other. Our marriage recently crossed the one-year mark. We’re supposed to be like young flowers blooming in the sun, but in reality, our petals wilted long ago.
The issue is that my wife doesn’t need me the way I want a woman to need me. Whenever I bring up this topic, she accuses me of wanting to control her. But the truth is, control has nothing to do with it. I simply want to feel needed. It’s nice for a wife to want her husband to buy her a gift, or to ask him for help when her phone breaks. I want her to see a dress on display, send me a photo, and say, “Dear, can you get me this?”
To me, it would mean she sees me as the man in her life—the one she turns to for support. But if I’m the sun, my wife is the moon. She has her own light, so even if I shine mine on her, it doesn’t make much of a difference. I have a car; she has her own. We were supposed to build a house together for our future, but she’s stopped talking about it. When push comes to shove, she can always go back home and sleep in her family’s mansion.
One day, I asked her, “Why did you marry me if you don’t need a man?” We weren’t fighting. I genuinely wanted to have a conversation. She answered, “You offered marriage, and I wanted it. That’s all.”
“So you didn’t marry me because you loved me?” I asked.
“If I did, I don’t remember,” she said. “But is marriage always about love? Isn’t it also about finding safety in a companion and being willing to be with them?”
Even when it comes to the definition of love, hers is always different. When we don’t talk for months, she thrives as if nothing is wrong. I could withhold the metaphorical breath she takes, and she wouldn’t even notice because she has her own oxygen tanks. These things don’t make me feel less of a man, but they do make me question my role in this marriage. What’s my purpose when my wife lives so independently, as if I don’t exist?
So we fight. We act lukewarm towards each other for so long that we forget how it feels to be truly happy. Once, I hugged her in bed, and she said, “Are you trying to suffocate me to death?” Even my hug, apparently, takes her breath away—literally.
As I said, we’ve only been married for a year. We dated for a year after talking for just three months. Looking back, I realize we were strangers at heart, and this marriage is a test to see if we can truly find each other. But the truth is, I’m getting tired of being the only one trying to salvage this relationship. She simply doesn’t care how this marriage functions, and she blames me for overthinking things that, according to her, aren’t worth my attention.
I’ve decided to work at this diligently in the coming year. I’ll involve third parties—her family, my family, and other respected individuals. She’s opposed couple’s counseling in the past, but I’ll try again. If nothing changes, or if everything stays the same, I’ll cut my losses and let her go. Love shouldn’t be forced, and neither should marriage.