Marrying a man

In the quiet hours of the night, she often lies awake, her mind a sea of contradictions about the man sleeping beside her. "Why does it irk me so?" she wonders, staring at the ceiling.

He is a good father, attentive and caring. But his part in creating life is as brief as a Reel, while she endures months of discomfort, pain, and change.

She admires his resilience, that is true. But, she can't help but sneer when a spicy burrito leaves him groaning in discomfort, his pain a rounding error of the debilitating agony she faces every month.

He provides, yes. But the world makes it so hard for her to do the same, to fight twice as hard for half the recognition.

In her darker moments, she finds herself wishing he would just disappear, leaving her to face the world alone, unshadowed by his presence.

But then, she catches a glimpse of him, maybe lost in a book, and her heart softens. "He's not the enemy," she reminds herself. Her love rekindles, strong and foundational, as the man she married captivates her anew, simply by being himself.