Once upon a time,

my heart bubbled with excitement at the thought that

I would be doing life with this man. 

Yes, this man, because that's exactly what he has morphed

into, not the one I had looked at with eyes that carried my heart. 

Marrying him once felt like the blessing that eclipsed 

every good I had enjoyed in my not so  little time on earth. 

But today, that feeling feels like something that never existed,

like I imagined the excitement, the glee and butterflies.

My marriage is not one of white picket fences and 

a happily ever after but a descent from cloud nine 

to earth, to reality, to now. 

This is not the regular case of a cheating husband whose

pants couldn't keep his manhood in check. 

Thing is: man is as faithful as can be but I guess the domesticity 

that marriage demands, the true reality of building a home with

another grown adult happened.  

The reality I find myself doesn't hold the tiniest shred of the life 

I had hoped marrying this man would offer. The contrast is staggering 

and that is me putting it lightly. Five years in, and I'm already wanting out.

The romance my unmarried self dreamed of has become 

a dream in this drab of a journey that is believed to span forever. 

But this journey has become a long monotonous trek of 

the rinse and repeat cycle of routines. This can't be how the 

rest of my life goes.