How horrifying it is to realize that your love of someone is the only thing keeping them human, and that if you waver in that love even a little bit they will slowly and grotesquely turn back into a frog. And the futility of trying to keep loving them if only to keep someone from such a terrible fate, but the very attempts to force such a love weaken any bonds that once existed (not to mention he’s not helping things by putting all of the executive work of both the relationship and RUNNING A COUNTRY on your shoulders).

So perhaps, you decide, it’s better to leave and fall out of love entirely, and end their slow, torturous transformation, only to realize that that is also not a fate so freely given either. If you could just not love him, then some other girl, one with less weight on her shoulders, could fall for him instead. In all likelihood he’d be happier with someone less burdened by more ‘serious matters’ as you are. But that doesn’t work either, because you remember that part of him that made you fall in love in the first place, and so the trap is set. Not loved enough to remain human, not hated enough to restart the cycle. Just, half-formed, grotesque, not quite a husband not quite a frog. Fuck me.