In silence I trust

Being married for nearly nine years comes with many encumbrances. You may not have joint accounts but the home is done up together. And when that marriage starts to fall apart, without any apparent reason, the things around you gather dust. Falling in love and staying in love are two entirely different things; it took me a long while to realise that. But in a strange way, I am glad that it happened, albeit a few years too late.
I understand now that one doesn't have to love according to time, space, race and gender. And there isn't just one kind of love that defines us.
I am perhaps five inches away from walking out of a life that I can no longer recognise. And while voices inside my head urge me to think it through, I am only waiting for the time that I can no longer find my way back home.
You can love a man, hate him as much or take him for granted - everything finds its way into settling down. However, at some point, when you realise that respect has left the building, there is no other way than to evacuate.
I can sit before him for hours, my mouth smiling at him and yet, a multitude of thoughts hover in and around me; why am I doing this?
He thinks you're immature, flippant and sometimes, not intelligent enough. And yet, for a long time you are the one who's pulling it together, stretching all corners, to make sure that the home and heart stay covered. And yet, despite all signals saying otherwise, you are going to work not to enjoy what you do but because you simply have to.
It takes nothing to start a relationship; youth makes sure that we listen to heart more ardently than we'd do our heads. But with time, when you reach a stage where things start looking a bit different, it takes mammoth patience to actually keep it together.
For all those women who've found their freedom, in their hearts and in their minds, it can never be easy. But I know it can be done. It has to be done.