When we are young, we think marriage is romance—sweet words whispered morning and night, promises made under the stars.
Only later do we understand that marriage is morning porridge and a lamp left on at midnight. It is a glass of warm water when you are sick, and silent company when you are too tired to speak.
Marriage hides countless trivialities: cooking, cleaning, arguing, compromising. It carries the burden of supporting a family and raising children, blending ideals with harsh reality.
What people call a "peaceful life" is simply two people patiently picking up scattered feathers and turning chaos into routine.
A good marriage is not dramatic.
It is quiet, repetitive, and deeply human.
Stability is not boring—it is earned.