I hear a lot of talk about how you have to work to make a marriage last. But it seems to me that the most daunting work of marriage is maintaining something of your essential character, the person you were before you decided to forgo all other romances for the Big Love with a capital L, to eschew all temporary partnerships in favor of the lifetime plan.

I would like to think I am not too unlike the girl who crawled through the window in the middle of the night and climbed into the bed of a man she hardly knew. I would like to think that, when my husband looks at me, he still sees something of the old mischief. And I would like to think that, when we make love, he still feels something of the old danger zapping at the edges like a live electrical wire.

But here is the truth: I will never crawl through a man's window again. I'm no longer that kind of woman. And though my husband knows I changed for him, there's no avoiding the fact that I've changed; this is matrimony's unavoidable double-edged sword.

-- Michelle Richmond

My wedding day was filled with flowers, beautiful clothes, friends, family, happy times, well wishes, excellent food, great music, expensive wine and the blessings of the Catholic Church. Not a bad way to start out a life together.

June 12, 1999, was our wedding day. But June 13 is the day our marriage really began. And as anybody who has been married knows, a wedding and a marriage have about as much in common as a hot dog and a warm puppy. The path to Divorceville is littered with friends of ours who just wanted to throw a really great party and were amazed the day after the honeymoon that they were stuck with some quirky weirdo who expected you to pick up where his mommy left off for all eternity. Unlike a lot of my friends, I don't believe in The One, or soul mates, or any of that other overly romantic crap. I think you should look for a spouse like you look for a house -- beware of fixer-uppers. Love won't fix 'em -- and they usually cost twice as much to renovate as what you first estimate. Half the time it's cheaper to tear them down and start all over again.

My husband's and my differences completely outweigh our similarities, and there has been more than one occasion when I have seen the fleeting "What the f---" look on a person's face when he or she realizes that my husband and I are, in fact, bound together for eternity. Yes, I chose him. And he chose me. Forever and ever. Amen.

Here's what we have in common: We are both Catholic. Neither of us uses drugs or smokes. We both love our families. We both have a madcap sense of humor. That's about it.

Here's what we don't have in common. I am Irish-American, born and raised in the United States; he is a native of Panama and a U.S. immigrant. My first language was English; his first language was Spanish. I have a law degree; he only graduated from high school. My parents were married 18 years, until my father passed away. If my dad were alive today, they would still be married. My husband's father, on the other hand, decided two weeks after my husband was born that marriage and fatherhood were way more than he had bargained for and split, for good. I was raised in the relative comfort of the American suburban middle class. My husband, literally, will be able to tell our son stories of how he worked the fields in Panama with his mother when he was 8 years old for 25 cents a day. Me: aggressive, outgoing, forceful personality. Him: laid-back, relaxed, quiet.

I can't explain why we work as a couple. The only thing I can tell from my own experience as a spouse and as a divorce lawyer is this: Nobody ever knows what's really going on in anybody's marriage unless you're a member of the marriage. I've seen too many "perfect couples on paper" walk into my office after many years of marriage with only bitterness, resentment and a withering contempt left for each other to believe in any kind of storybook fairy tale.

The truth is this: Marriage is hard, but if it's too hard maybe you are in the wrong relationship. My husband and I have been married for four years but have been together for nearly 10. The utter feelings of longing (you know, the "Oh God I want to barf every time he walks in the room" feeling) I had for him when we first started dating were long gone by the time we walked down the aisle. I knew then, as I know now, that those wonderful days that mark the beginnings of love or lust were over. To this day, some of my overly romantic girlfriends insist that they still feel butterflies when their husbands walk into the room. I don't believe them.

Romantic love ebbs and wanes throughout a marriage. These are the things that no one tells you the day you are in the ridiculously expensive dress and he is in the rented tuxedo with your whole lives in front of you, saying vows to each other with words like "eternity" and "forever." Vows whose weight you will only really be able to comprehend with the benefit of years of hindsight and experience. The "butterflies" may have been what attracted us to each other at first, but it's the vows that get us from crest to crest when the romantic love has hidden itself away from the chaos of everyday life and the incessant demands of children.

I don't know what keeps my marriage together. What I do know is this: At the end of the day, in my heart, and perhaps more importantly in my head, there is no better match for me. He softens my rough edges. He gets my sense of humor. I knew I would marry him when I realized that no matter what he did, I couldn't stay mad at him. He always makes me laugh. And that ability has gotten us through some bad times, including the aftermath of our idiotic decision to have that ridiculously expensive wedding instead of putting a nice down payment on a house.

-- Kara Plunkett Yanguez

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We want to make you a part of this series. What is the state of your union? Did you find the one and never look back, or has finding lasting love been a marathon of trial and error? Did you have a fairy-tale wedding only to watch things crumble once the reception was over, or have you glided along in marital bliss since Day One? We want to hear your stories of joy, romance, heartbreak and pain. After all, partnership, as we all know, is a complex concoction of all of those things. (Please remember: Any writing submitted becomes the property of Salon if we publish it. We reserve the right to edit submissions, and cannot reply to every writer. Interested contributors should send their stories to marriage@salon.com.)

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