Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don’t know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, witherings, and tarnishings.”
A friend recently confided in me that her husband slept with another woman.
“You’re only, like, the third person I’ve told.”
Her other confidants told her that she needs to leave him.
But she said to me, “I don’t want to leave him. I am angry and disgusted. I feel horrible about myself. I can’t even close my eyes at night without imagining him having sex with another woman. But I want to give him another chance. I want to believe that he told me because he wants to make things better.”
“Am I stupid for staying with him?” She asked me.
“It’s not that I’m doing it for the kids, or because I’m afraid of being alone. I just feel like if I don’t try – if I don’t give us the opportunity to fix what went wrong – then I would just be giving up.”
I told her that she isn’t stupid.
I said that she’s the only person who can know for herself whether or not she is doing what is best for her.
He is her husband, and she loved him dearly. Perhaps what’s more important than all of that is that she still wants to love him with everything she has.
And, I thought to myself after she left my house,
If there are people who want to forgive, want to move forward in love, want to overcome one of the most deceptive betrayals of all… how can there be people who walk away from the slightest of challenges?
What makes love worth fighting for?
More importantly, what makes it so easy to let it die?