Mistaken Identity

We were married young. I remember feeling like it was something that we all had to do. It was our life. I didn’t know much about it...marriage that is. I knew based on other marriages around me. Some of them failed, but some remained together. I loved Him because I was reminded time and time again about just how much He loved me. And someone also told me that He’d never leave me or hurt me or betray me. And I believed them, so I believed Him.
Then I got left.
Then I got hurt.
Then I was betrayed.
What hurt the most was that I believed it. I believed Him. I stayed with Him though. But afterward, it was evident that we both had separate lives. I was stuck. And I wanted out.
There was a stranger in my house.
So I mentally divorced Him. But I remained religiously committed to the motions. But I remember that night. That night I heard Him for the first time not coming through someone else.
“Intimacy”.
“What?”
“Intimacy”.
“Huh?”
“In-to-me-see”.
And we became one. And we were finally married. And I finally realized. This was more than any one person could ever tell me or show me or preach to me.
My Husband was not a stranger. My Husband was not my enemy.