The First 52 Uncut: On Ugliness

“…I do feel we are at the end of a rope: the one that tethers us to this cycle of hurt, or the one that tethers us to each other, I do not know.”He says nothing.

Enter  a wave of pain: swelling through my chest,  breaking from my lips in a series of violent, bated exhalations, followed by a tsunami of tears. Slowly I rose to my feet,  feeling at once lighter, yet at my heaviest. The notebooks taunt me from my bedside. The notebooks, where my research and unedited scribblings for the book about our marriage lay in wait. I close my eyes to see my Self in my mind’s eye, and kneeling before her earnestly, humbly, compassionately, I  say, “Whatever feels right for you, is the right thing to do. Do that.”

This is an excerpt from the “The First 52: Uncut”.

It would be a disservice to ourselves and anyone who reads this blog, follows my far too infrequent ramblings about this project, or those on the front lines of their own first year of marriage  to sugarcoat the truth. Marriage can be ugly. Unh, unh…I see you, oh-self-righteous-it-is-the-most-beautifullest-union-brows-furled-clutched-pearls-reaching-for-your-mug. Have mine, and several seats.

There ya go. Love is beautiful. The process by which egos are shaped, shed, sloughed, and bloodlet to simultaneously surrender, survive, and still sustain said beautiful love all within the confines of this institution is as ugly as it gets. [Insert deep breath and an affirming head nod] But, it doesn’t have to be; mark my words, trust my tears and follow our journey.

In love, BIG love.