Death of A Fairytale

Ever since I was a little girl, I believed in fairytales and the notion of living happily ever after. I had to. Witnessing all the things I did growing up, I think it was my way of surviving in the world. My brother and I would spend countless hours making up stories and building towering forts on my Nana’s living room floor. In our eyes, the fort, simply made up of chairs, boxes and sheets was our castle and the living room floor was a big moat surrounding us, protecting us from all evil. I made a crown out of construction paper and placed it high on my head so everyone would know that I was special. I would be the distressed princess and my brother; the heroic prince would fight demons with his magical sword, risking his own life to save mine. Those days were simple and happy. They are some of the best memories I can recall from my childhood. I admit, I grew up way too fast. Along the way, I learned a lot about relationships and love; mostly, their failure. But I still wanted to believe in the fairytale. I wanted to have it all one day; a beautiful home, a wonderful and rewarding career, a husband that was passionately in love with me and children that adored me. I suppose I watched too many movies or read too many romance novels but I grew into a young woman believing that my prince charming was out there and one day he would rescue me from the life I was granted. Needless to say, my first marriage did not work out although I was blessed with the most amazing son. I had part of the dream but certainly not the whole fairytale. My friends would merely laugh at me, reminding me that there is no such thing as fairytales; there is no such thing as prince charming. And yet, I still believed I could have it all….especially when I met my second husband. He was everything I could have ever wanted. He was absolutely in love with me. He wanted me and my son and he needed me with his whole heart; something I had never experienced. He wanted to marry me and have a family of our own. We would spend hours making love in front of the fireplace, drinking wine, laughing, telling stories and dreaming big dreams for our future. I could now laugh at all my friends who mocked my fairytale.

He & I finally got married last year after nearly 8 years together. Our relationship had its share of ups and downs over the years but one simple fact remained, we loved each other and could not see a life without each other. There was no denying that. And as I sit here today, I still love him and am still in love with him, but my dream of the fairytale is dying a slow and painful death. My closest friends are kind enough to not say “I told you so” but the look they give me tells me all I need to know. They had been right after all. There is no such thing as having it all. It has been a devastating blow to my world. Although I wanted the so called fairytale, I was not naïve enough to think that this prince and princess would not have their share of problems. Every marriage does. Everyone has bills, arguments, kids, dogs, cats, a messy house and a plethora of other things that can weigh down a marriage. I went into this union with an open mind and an open heart. I was prepared for anything. Well, almost anything. I did not expect so many changes to happen so quickly. People keep saying the first year of marriage is the hardest. It’s merely a time to get to know one another. I married him because I already knew him, knew his quirks and I knew his heart. That’s why I married him. But sometimes in a marriage, life’s issues become so great, people become so stressed out that something has to give. Something must fall by the waist side and I fear it has been me.

 The part of the fairytale that remains is this big, beautiful home that we built a couple of years ago which now seems far too large to fit our needs. My near teenage son spends most of his time in his room with the door shut and usually only ventures out to ask when dinner will be ready. He is far too cool to hang out with his mom anymore. My vision for this house was to be filled with the pitter patter of little feet. There was supposed to be the sound of nursery rhymes and bedtime stories. There was supposed to be the sound of laughter to fill up all the empty space of this big beautiful house. But as I said, some fairytales are not meant to be. My husband and I both have jobs but nothing that propels us out of bed each morning except for the fact that we have bills to pay. We each have our own friends and our own hobbies. We don’t have a fireplace anymore. We don’t ever drink wine together anymore. We don’t really discuss our dreams anymore. We discuss work, the house, the pets, racing, bills that need to be paid and the differences of opinion on how my son should be raised. Oh and by the way, the topic of having children of our own is now no longer up for discussion.

Maybe this is the way a marriage is supposed to be. As I sit here now, I feel pretty foolish that I ever believed in fairytales at all. Maybe marriage is simply a life with monotony, routine and loneliness masked by edges of small joys and triumphs every now and then. Maybe it’s simply an institution made up of nothing more than a comfortable kind of love surrounded by compromises, sacrifices and a vow to stick it out together, through thick and through thin. Maybe I fantasized so much about what I thought my marriage would be like instead of focusing on what marriage truly is like.  Although I do not regret marrying my husband, I now no longer know why I did. Maybe things would have stayed more the same if we hadn’t. Maybe I would still be able to catch a glimpse of the man that I fell in love with. I think he is still in there and I long for nothing more than to find him again. But in the meantime, I, the foolish princess is taking off my crown and building a big, safe moat around myself.