A marriage unravels.

Nothing like a Valentine's Day disaster to reflect on the failures of the institution of marriage. The rumours are true. It seems to be the end of the line for Fred* and Daphne*, which brings the total of my under-thirty divorced friends to four. Admittedly, Hector* had an ill-conceived quickie wedding at Gretna Green at the age of twenty and Sappho* originally married the wrong gender, but still, two divorces in the space of several months…A shell-shocked and despondent Fred* had dinner at our house last night and told us the following story:

"When I flew home from Afghanistan, I called Daphne* from the airport and told her I'll be a little late. She said: "We need to talk." There was a strange note in her voice. At home, she told me that she's been unhappy for a long time, that we have nothing in common. She made a list of my character flaws and told me that I haven't been supportive of her. I admit that while I'm not perfect, or always easy to live with, I'm willing to try and change, but Daphne* doesn't want to work things out. She just wants to leave. She also told me that there's this guy from work that she really really likes. She'll be staying with him."

Now, I appreciate how difficult it must be to live together if you like watching quality TV shows as “America’s Next Top Model” and “Big Brother” while your husband prefers such drivel as the History Channel, but that hardly amounts to irreconcilable differences. As for him being away for months at a time and therefore not being supportive enough, not being able to clean the snow off the car, meaning Daphne* was stuck at home for days, Fred* did warn Daphne* about the implications of his RAF job the night before they got married. He asked her if she still wanted to go through with it, and she said she didn’t want to talk about it. She knew what she was in for, even if hadn’t completely sunk in at the time. During their marriage, she even told us how great it was: on one hand, she had her independence, and on the other, she had the best of Fred* when he was at home. One of the strongest marriages I know was based around the husband being abroad for months at a time, while the wife pursued a teaching career at home, yet such was the bond between them that the absences made the relationship stronger rather than weaker.

Communication played a big part in that, of course. Knowing the other person, being able to get inside their head. I’m not convinced that Fred* and Daphne* ever had that kind of insight into each other. They seemed loved-up during our group gatherings, but how much of that was for appearances’ sake, at least on Daphne’s part, is anyone’s guess, just as their numerous Facebook messages of affection for one another perhaps sought to convey love that was lacking.

When Daphne* recited Fred’s* litany of sins, she mentioned the guy she’s moving in with as a friend, a by-the-way, but I’m inclined to believe that he’s the main reason, that she used Fred’s* shortcomings to convince herself that she has no alternative but to leave. I don’t imagine for a second that Fred* was easy live with all the time, given his aloofness, insecurities and the occasional tantrum, but to just dump the guy like that, rather than considering alternatives, like taking up a mutual hobby or going to relationship counselling? When Delilah* screwed up, she at least acknowledged that she made a monumental mistake and worked hard at trying to patch up her marriage with Gabriel*, whereas Daphne* doesn’t even wish to try.

There are several reasons why I dislike the institution of marriage. One is my mother bearing her marriage to my father with the stoicism of a martyr, referring to it as her ‘cross to bear’. The other is the lack of seriousness with which so many people seem to treat it. I haven’t led an entirely blameless life and have been involved with a couple of married men in the past, though not entirely by choice: the first one was a lapsed Jehovah’s Witness who wasn’t entirely upfront with me. A work colleague tipped me off that the guy was married with kids and I did what any sensible eighteen year old would do under the circumstances: I decided to go undercover, infiltrate the local Jehovah's Witness sect and find out whether the rumours were true. I knew that Antonio didn't attend the services at the local Kingdom Hall, so I ventured in under my alter-ego's name: K, speaking with a dodgy American accent (supposedly from New Jersey), and claiming to be interested in what being a Witness was all about. "I had this great friend at school, Amy, and she told me how wonderful it was being a Witness so I decided to find out what it's like."

I wasn't totally lying: I did, in fact, know a Witness called Amy at school and I almost got rumbled, because it turned out that her family belonged to this congregation. If she'd actually come along, she would have blown my cover and questions would have been asked. As it is I was lucky: I sat through two sermons - one on the evils on masturbation and the other on avoiding association with 'people of the world', i.e non-Witnesses before I ended up meeting my lover's wife, children, mother-in-law, brother-in-law...One of the nice ladies wanted to know my address so that they could organise a Bible study session. I panicked and gave her Sappho's* address; I could just imagine Sappho's* uncouth stepfather telling the Witnesses where to go. I spent the next several years ducking out of sight whenever I came across Witnesses in town. I was furious when I found out the truth about Antonio, but emotionally in too deep by then. It took me three years to shake him off completely.

The second married man I met online; he was completely upfront with me about his situation and at the time I was looking for something completely at arm’s length, so we saw each other for a few months. What the two relationships had in common is that neither one was really going anywhere. I don't judge people for physical infidelity because I appreciate how complex relationships can be and that even the strongest of marriages and relationships can have their problems, but I do see married/attached men as fair game provided they make themselves available; chasing unwilling attached parties is really bad form, as far as I'm concerned. I do judge people who lie to me or people who play around and have the cheek to complain like heck about their partners. That's one of the reasons why I ditched my dial-a-shag; I became more agony aunt than lover and I felt sorry for his long-term girlfriend/ mother of his children after he described her in less-than-flattering terms and complained about how unhappy he was with her, yet didn't have the guts to leave, thus allowing her to find someone who would perhaps appreciate her.

I, personally, would find it very difficult to get married because I’m quite cynical about human ability to only ever love person in their lifetime, and I'm not convinced that monogamy is the natural human state. I think that some people are fortunate enough to meet someone that they are happy with for life. As for the rest of us, I still haven’t made up my mind about whether the imposition of artificial monogamy on natural human impulses is a good thing or not. Perhaps I’m simply not possessive by nature or perhaps I’m yet to meet someone who would captivate me so entirely. Either way, I respect people who do take marriage seriously, and if I contemplated marriage, I’d take it very seriously myself and not make the promise that I would love them for the rest of my life and be with them for the rest of my life unless I was absolutely sure. For Fred* and Daphne*, ‘forever’ amounted to three years. It remains to be seen whether or not Fred* will ever get over it.