Marriage Horoscope - AstrologerUmesh

Check out the video for astrological solutions and guidance as unfolded by the conversation between two people, Karan and Aman. Learn how the problem of Aman’s marriage finds its friendly suggestion from his friend about consulting leading astrologer in India, Pt. Umesh Chandra Pant Ji. Watch it now and consult our astrologer for quick astrological solutions for anything problematic happening in your life.

इंसान के जीवन में शादी एक महत्वपूर्ण घटना है, और जोड़ी सही नहीं होने से जिंदगी और परिवार दोनो के ऊपर मुसीबत आ जाती है, इस मामले में विशेषज्ञ ज्योतिष की सलाह लीजिए..

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A man is kissing and hugging a tractor Another man goes up to him and says, "what on earth are you doing to this tractor?"

The man replies explaining that him and his wife are having some marriage problems so a friend said that he should do some sexy thing to a tractor.

The Hour I Miss Myself

(Esther Nicholette Sullivan) The uncomfortable silence stretched thick with the weight of unspoken truths and the shadow of a love that had grown threadbare. I could feel James's gaze drilling into me, desperate for some kind of understanding or perhaps a sign of the woman he thought he married.

My chest tightened, each breath a struggle as if the air in the room had turned viscous and heavy. The faint hum of the refrigerator in the background became oddly amplified, a mundane soundtrack to our marital impasse.

"Nic..." His voice trailed off, unsure, perhaps even afraid of what more I might say. He moved as if to reach out but then seemed to think better of it, letting his hand fall to his side.

I closed my eyes briefly, recalling the countless times Major S's hands had corrected my stance, his touch firm yet gentle. How different it felt from the touch I had at home. His belief in me was unwavering, unlike the doubt that clouded James's eyes.

Opening my eyes, I forced myself to meet James's stare. "I need that hour," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. "It's not just about fitness; it's not vanity. It's sanity, James. It's the one thing that's purely mine."

He blinked, taken aback by the raw honesty in my words. Something shifted behind his eyes—a flicker of recognition, perhaps? I didn't know if he could fully grasp the gravity of my need, but the vulnerability I felt at that moment was all too real.

"Can't you see?" My voice quivered now, the anger dissolving into a plea. "When I'm there, I'm more than just 'Mom' or 'wife' or whatever role I'm supposed to play here. I'm Nic—just Nic. And damn it, I miss her."

It was as if admitting it aloud had permitted the feeling to flood through me, leaving no room for the armor I'd built up over the years. This was me, not the superheroine facade, but the flesh and blood woman who craved acknowledgment, who hungered to be seen for her own merits and not just her roles in others' lives.

A long breath escaped me, a white flag in the silence. I waited for him to say something, anything, that might bridge the chasm between us. But all I heard was the quiet ticking of the kitchen clock, marking the seconds of our standoff, the heartbeat of a marriage hanging in the balance.

My hand trembled as I reached for the doorknob, the cold metal offering no comfort. My heart thundered, fury's hot pulse racing through my veins. With a force that startled even me, I yanked the door open and strode across the threshold.

"Nic—" James's voice cracked, a pathetic attempt to salvage the conversation.

I didn't turn back. The resolve in my every step was a shield against his half-hearted appeal. He coughed again, a guttural sound muffled by distance and our crumbling connection. That fleeting glimpse of regret on his face flickered in my mind. Still, it was quickly snuffed out by the familiar cloak of his indifference.

What was he regretting anyway? Our shared silence? His neglect? Or the fact that he had finally been confronted with the truth?

The bedroom loomed before me, a sanctuary turned prison. My hand slammed the door shut with finality, the bang reverberating off the walls, mirroring the chaos inside me. The room felt smaller somehow, the shadows clinging to the corners like specters of all the unspoken words between us.

I stumbled to the bed, legs suddenly weak. The mattress gave way beneath me, the springs creaking a lament in time with my ragged breaths. My eyes burned, hot tears spilling over, tracing paths down my cheeks. They were tears of anger, of resentment - my last bastion against the sorrow threatening to consume me.

Flashbacks flickered behind my closed eyelids, a rapid montage of laughter, passion, and promises - all reduced to this desolate moment. How had we gone from whispered dreams in the dark to echoes of doubt and despair?

"James," I uttered into the void, tasting the bitterness of his name. Was I mourning the man I married or grieving the love that had once filled these walls?

The fabric of the pillowcase was rough against my skin as I buried my face in the cushion, muffling the sobs that wracked my body. It wasn't supposed to be like this. We weren't supposed to be like this.

In the gym, I was whole; amidst the clanking weights and encouraging shouts, I found pieces of myself I thought were lost. Major S's steady gaze and the warmth of his encouragement were like rays of sunlight piercing the gloom of my life. And now, here in the darkness, I yearned for that light.

"Fight for it, Nic," Major S's voice echoed in my memory, a mantra that had pushed me beyond limits at the gym. But could I muster the strength to fight for myself, for my own happiness, outside those walls?

With each shuddering breath, I made a silent vow. The anger and the resentment would not define me. I would find my way back to the woman who laughed freely and who lived fiercely. For my sons. For me.

And maybe I'd find a new path along the way—one where the roles I played didn't smother the person I was meant to be.

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What I want

Back to the impending divorce, I now see what I want. There are actually different wants... but I think I need to work towards the pragmatic one.

I love D genuinely and deeply. I have been with him, and only him, for 19 years. Sure, I dated quite actively before meeting him, but that was actually a full sowing of oats which allowed me to be faithful in marriage.

I was hurt by him when I saw the flirtations on Instagram. He just never interacted with me the same way. Because we were friends, perhaps more than lovers, the way we interacted were like equal partners. I did tell the marriage counselor that I craved adoration in the way D never gave, but because he was so good, kind, and loving in so many other ways, I just dealt with it. I thought I could not have my cake and eat it, too. And my sister encouraged me to work it out, reminding me that D was a good husband, because he really was.

When I called him my best friend, it was not an exaggeration. We learned so much and have grown together throughout the years, having met when we were just 23. We knew so little about life then, and now we are pretty cool people. We talked so much that we did not even need music on long rides in the car. D also held me up so I could pursue a master’s degree and to find the career I truly belonged in. And when I got sick, he was supportive through and through. I was never a burden to anyone about my health, because I was able to keep it private while being taken care of by D.

But knowing I am not the apple of his eye has really eaten away at me since last September. I craved the adoration and affection more, and noticed its absence more and more. D never got the hints. I still tried to do my share of helping the marriage. And now with this new revelation, hearing a sweet and silly message to another woman, marked with such butterflies... it is a more painful truth that I am just not the woman for D.

So what do I want? I still cannot have it all. Another man will not be invested as a caretaker. But perhaps another man can give me the joyful romance that I’ve been missing. The kind that D has been giving to others.

I’m not going to go out into the dating market, at the risk of getting into a problematic rebound. I had been so honorable in my code of conduct that I don’t want to make a mistake. 

So now, the practical thing to do is to keep packing and getting ready to leave the house. It already seems more peaceful without D’s overflowing clothes cluttering every open space. I think the prospect of living in a newer space, despite being an apartment, is enticing L. And I told her that it won’t be hard to move. It will just take time.

The bottom line is that I do want a divorce from this unhappy life. It was a better marriage than most, because of our friendship, partnership, and teamwork, but maybe there should be more than that. It’s hard, but necessary.

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