Foreverland: On the Divine Tedium of Marriage

That’s the irony of escaping urban elitism: the consistent mediocrity of the suburbs will make you into more of an elitist. You start to look down on the people around you for having the bad taste to live there, even though they are exactly like you. So you have to decide that you’re better than they are in order to avoid hating yourself. But you still hate yourself. You hated what the Nespresso owners at the private school reflected back at you, but you also hate what the woman buying the two-pound bag of shredded Mexican cheese reflects back at you. You’re Holden Caulfield now. You’re inferior and superior, like an immature prep school kid, like a self-hating hipster, like a sad suburban newbie on Nextdoor, decrying the dearth of quality pho in the neighborhood.

I wasn’t sure I wanted to spend forever with anyone, least of all myself.

I wrote this book to explore that tedium, along with everything else that marriage brings: the feeling of safety, the creeping darkness, the raw fear and suspense of growing older together, the tiny repeating irritations, the rushes of love, the satisfactions of companionship, the unexpected rage of recognizing that your partner will probably never change. And in writing this book, I discovered new layers within my marriage and myself, haunting and chaotic, wretched and unlovable.

Forever is two immortal elves, sipping pink champagne by a burbling stream, then exploring the wild, gorgeous woods around them in everlasting harmony. Forever is set in New Zealand, not New Jersey.

engages in the 105th hour of an ongoing discussion about Bill’s Bad Knee, which includes speculation, revised imaginary diagnoses, and in-depth analysis of a level of pain that she herself would file under Not Worth Mentioning at All, Ever, Not Even for a Fucking Second?

Because the truth is that being in love looks the same no matter who’s doing it. Watching someone fall in love is like watching someone eat a really big, sloppy submarine sandwich. The more they’re enjoying their sandwich, the less enjoyable it is to watch them eat it. Savor your true love as much as you can, just have the good grace to do so in private.

It takes work sometimes, to love the people you trust, and to trust the people you love.

Contrary to popular wisdom, growing older does not make you less conflicted. In fact, you become more and more conflicted by the second. You can see all sides of any given thing. It’s all stupid bullshit and you want all of it, everything, and you also want none of it,

Your hatred has power because it points back to your weaknesses. Your hatred makes you feel small and helpless. Your hatred gives you a motive, an attraction, a reason to try. Your hatred fuels you. Your hatred turns you on, in other words.

From a distance, the solid ground of marriage has a way of looking mundane and exotic at the same time.

Marriage can’t always be about living your best lives in sync. Because some of the peak moments of a marriage are when you share in your insecurities, your anxieties, your fears, and your longing.

A simple inquiry—“What are we going to do about dinner?”—incites an existential crisis, the 742nd of its kind since your wedding day.

But we weren’t married yet, so he still thought he could do whatever he wanted.