Rob and I met through a married couple — let's call them the Foils — just over a decade ago. After a couple years of casual friendship, and for the second time in the same wedding season, we found ourselves dateless, drunk, and seated next to each other at the Foils' wedding reception.

Looking back in my less-than-positive mood of the moment, our courtship, wedding, and the subsequent breakdown of our marriage seem as inevitable as our hook-up that night.

As a couple, the Foils were born of much more innocent circumstances: They were high school sweethearts. After a few years as young urban professionals, and soon after introducing me to Rob, they moved back to their small hometown to be near their support system as they built a family.

Four kids in, their lives are busy and unpredictable, but there's no question they have cultivated a secure household full of love and laughter.

Every time Rob and I visit the Foils, it is clear we lack the bond they have. We don't give each other knowing glances, share inside jokes, or move mountains for the love of children. The absence of substance in our relationship is painful to me, and I feel powerless to change it.

I don't get the attention I want from Rob, and he acts as if he finds me annoying. I'm encouraged by many to work things out with him. But lacking a strong bond and with no substantive shared history, how can we possibly build up? I feel doomed.