People talk about what it feels like to fall in love. They describe it like a rush. Butterflies in their stomach. A rollercoaster of fun.
However, people don’t talk about what it feels like to fall out of love. More than likely because it’s down-right depressing, but still… It’s has its own set of strangely bizarre feelings.
Falling out of love feels sterile.
It feels like sitting in a waiting room after you’ve seen the nurse but waiting for the doctor to come in: unsure. anxious. impatient.
It feels like when the radio overplays a song and you decide to turn to a different radio station but everything else is just commercials; you’re not mad, just disappointed and annoyed.
Falling out of love feels like opening the mailbox to find only junk mail.
It feels like checking your phone less and less often because you know the notification is probably a spam email or a solicitation call.
It feels like driving home after a long day of work with the radio off and listening to the whistle of the wind cascading over your car.
It feels like turning on the TV when you’re at home so you don’t feel so alone.
It feels like listening to a monotone eulogy of a person you don’t know.
It’s scary because one starts caring less and less until you wake up one day and realize you don’t give a damn anymore. There’s an absence of empathy. Lack of compassion. The death of excitement.
Throughout the last couple of months, I learned what it meant to wake up and select love. I saw this quote randomly posted somewhere on the internet and it completely changed my perspective.
It made me realize I don’t want to get divorced because being without my partner would be even harder than working through our problems. It made me realize that what I’m feeling right now is probably a stage. A stage of “reintegration” as the Military One Source would call it: the stage of awkward reintegration after a spouse has returned from war. I was falling out of love with not only my marriage, but my life in general. I fell out of love with being alive. Not in a KMS kind of way, but in a way where I totally lacked any form of joy, excitement, or spirituality about anything. This attitude seeped into my marriage and started to poison it from the inside. I was self-destructing.
So, I chose to change my habits.
I started meditating more at the gym and in my car. I started reading books while I was upset instead of crying or yelling. I started allowing myself to be strong instead of crumbling under the pressure and shutting down like I am so comfortable doing.
Most importantly of all, I started giving my husband grace. Do I really want to let every single small annoyance get to me? No! I’m sure I’m not Princess Peach all the time either! I pick my battles at work, and now I need to continue to pick them at home. Not everything needs to be a big blow out.
We started kissing more —– and fighting less.
We have a long way to go, but things are starting to look up!