My parents told me to be patient when I said I didnt love Sophie and begged me to wait. And how did all that waiting turn out?
Marrying Sophie was like living in a never-ending sitcomjust without the laugh track. She was demanding, loud, and, of course, handpicked by my father. Hed spotted his old mates daughter and decided we were a match made in heaven. Since I didnt have another girl lined up and was already pushing thirty, I went along with it. Sophie ran the showevery decision, every plan, even the exact timing of our first child, followed by the second.
Life trundled on, a mix of financial scrapes and minor disasters, with enough misery to make me wonder if Id accidentally signed up for a tragicomedy. I resented my wife, my kids, and had a spectacular row with my father-in-law. At one point, I was convinced divorce was the only escape.
Mum always had my back, but both she and Dad insisted I just hang in there and wait it out. Like theyd cracked some secret code of life and were certain Id figure it out once Id put in the years.
And thensomehowthe kids grew up and flew the nest. Sophie and I stayed together, moulded into each others quirks, and now I cant imagine life without her. Moneys no longer a daily crisis, and weve settled into a quiet, cosy sort of happiness. Healthy, comfortable, no major worriesjust the occasional debate over what to watch on telly.
It took us ages to get here, but it makes me wonderdo people actually feel happy when theyre drowning in work, kids, and chaos? Or does it sneak up on you later, like it did for me, when theres nowhere left to run and no reason to?
