Marriage, despite the meaning, is nothing special. It’s just another word that gauges different responses, opinions, and interpretations from different people, both with or without experience. Some people perceive marriage as something useless; something that is not needed to prove their love towards the other. They recognize marriage as a confining tie, a bond that limits something that is supposed to be limitless. They don’t want marriage. Love is valid, with or without the paper.
 

But some others perceive marriage as something beautiful. Massive, daunting but beautiful. It is definitely not the final stop for two people in a relationship but it is something to look up to. It is the insignia of love, of how both parties are willing to share anything and everything right after the swift exchange of ‘I do’. It is way beyond titles and labels. It is the highest form of commitment that two can achieve in a blooming relationship. It is proof of their love and there is nothing wrong with that stand.

Because Taemin felt it, too. He knew how it felt to devote so much to someone. He knew how it felt to convince his parents that he was ready to get married and he had found the right one. He knew how it felt (and he could still recall how ecstatic it was) to go around finding wedding bands, booking lovely suits, and planning the set of the wedding in one Spring evening. He knew how crazy it was to tell everyone that he was getting married to the love of his life and things were borderline dream-like when it happened for real.

Then they were married. Minho was his and he was officially Minho’s. Taemin thought it was the only thing that mattered.
 

But what he was not aware of was the fact that not everything will last forever.

Not even love, now that he registered it.

Marriage is like a roller-coaster ride of emotions. Sometimes you are at the top then suddenly things go downhill that before you even realize it, you are already at the bottom. The entire path costs you whirling, on and on, again and again—in an endless loop of insecurities and doubts, of sighs and muffled sobs. Sometimes your marriage hits the rough patch way too early, then way too often that it stays on the rocks forever. It gets to one point where you will eventually bring yourself to complete silence at 3 AM with a beer bottle in your hand and question: is it worth fighting for this, still? Is it going anywhere?

And Taemin was not sure if he was supposed to feel grateful to finally know the answer. Settling right on the coffee table was a file of documents with a piece of paper on top, a pen stayed stationary on the side. Right across from his seat was his husband, Minho who stared into space while the time ticked on. He was not looking at Taemin per se, not even close to his face but his eyes fixated on nowhere either. Similar to his mind, seemingly. It had been two hours since they sat in silence after ushering the attorney out of the house just so they could settle things ‘privately’.

It made Taemin chuckle wryly. Which part of that entire process was private? If they were to talk things out, the papers were not supposed to be there, open and inviting for a signature. If it was a private matter, Minho could have made Taemin sit down while working on it, just the two of them. Working on the individual and marital problems, scrutinizing each detail and listing possible ways to overcome them. Fighting for their marriage. But he did neither of those. None.
 

And Taemin wondered if any of this was his fault. They used to wake each other up with a small but repeated chaste peck through a groggy smile and spend an additional ten minutes cuddling in bed before slipping out to shower. They would kiss each other I love you’s at the door before separating ways and never miss the chance to exchange quick texts over lunch break. The best time of the day for both of them was when they came back from work. The promising, bone-crushing hug that was filled with love and support, the small talk of ‘how did your day go, my love?’ over homemade dinner and the fulfilling spooning to bed. It didn’t matter where they went for work, uncaring of how long it would take because, at the end of the day, they knew where they could head back to. They knew they would find solace in each other’s embrace.
 

Because Minho was Taemin’s home personified.

And Taemin was Minho’s.

But things eventually changed. The day lasted longer and the night went by faster. Either of them would wake up earlier than the other with no intention to even stay in bed before leaving to work first. The kisses became an unreachable bar of intimacy, and gradually so was the cuddle that they ended up sleeping while facing the other side of the bed. The kitchen turned gloomy with more takeaways than home dine-in. Where did it go wrong? How did it even come to that phase?

“Do you hate me?” Taemin asked, breaking the silence that ensued. He couldn’t afford to look at Minho, so he didn’t. Not until they managed to clear everything. He was afraid to.

“No, of course not,” came Minho’s reply, short and foul but precise. “But,” he sighed. Taemin noticed the way he had his fingers clasped over his temple, a gesture that was far too familiar for the past few months of living together without proper communication. He was not having it, Taemin thought.

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