The husband I need showed up again a few times this week. Rob put forth a best faith effort in therapy, helped me prep the house and food for our annual fall party, and stuck to his drink limit through hours of festivities.

He has come far from the boyish drunkard who once frustrated me to the point of leaving. He deserves much credit. And yet the fewer our demons and the more even-keeled our relationship, the more it seems we are two really great friends who should probably call a spade a spade and look elsewhere for romance, intimacy, marriage.

I told our therapist last week that I don't think I can forgive him for the big things that first turned me away from wanting intimacy. He said I gained too much weight and was no longer attractive. He said my depression meant I'd never be a good mom. He secretly suspected he had an STD and counted on condoms preventing transmission to me, putting me at risk but keeping me in the dark.

I want to be capable of great forgiveness. I take responsibility for my part in conflicts and meditate to grow the capacity for compassion toward difficult people. But the more I see my relationship with Rob as fertile ground for working on this type of personal development, the less likely I am to move on. His betrayals turn into challenges to forgive under difficult circumstances, nothing more.

This could be the recipe to make a marriage last a lifetime, but it also seems limiting. "Stay where you are and work on it!" Determination and commitment are nice sentiments, but something about this seems very 1950s, no?