Things had been not great for a while when I started thinking about leaving him. We weren't fighting, we weren't at each others' throats, we both just seemed to be getting casual with our marriage. So it didn't surprise me that when I said "I'm just not happy with this relationship", his response was "Ohh, that's too bad", followed by another few moments of eating in silence before changing the subject. It made a weird sort of sense that when I asked for space, I was able to move onto the futon in our living room without a single protest from him about how he wanted to sleep in the same bed with me. My vocalization of unhappiness, like a lot of things in our relationship on both sides, passed without much fanfare.
Our decision to marry wasn't completely insane. Before I started realizing that marriage- no, that love meant feeling passionately about someone, and that never fighting with a spouse was not something to brag about, we had gotten along just fine. We were good friends, we supported each other, we had similar values- all the good stuff. What was lacking was any interest in each other's thoughts, hopes, fears, or dreams, and I didn't realize how big of a deal that was until well after we were married.
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