…that, I think describes it best. Sometimes in a fit of enthusiasm you imagine that colors don’t have to be similar or even complimentary. Go in for the absolute mismatch. The ridiculous. That is “brave”, “bold”, “new” and then, of course, “the right thing to do”. The quiet voice in your mind that used to tell you not rush-in, got shushed in all the euphoria and all the estrogen. For a while there was some ridiculous thing clouding your judgement – people call it love. Then one day you wake up and it is all gone. Nothing you do is right for the other person. No gifts, no household contributions – it is all about the imperfections. Like acid it eats slowly into the fabric of your relationship. The edges get weaker, then, the center weakens. Then you start asking – how did I end up here? And the other question. The big one. How did we get from there to here?
Hypothesis. It was the wrong color. Period.
1. You like the intelligent life, books, technology – he couldn’t care less.
2. You like to be cuddle to spend time – he couldn’t care less.
3. You invest/save/insure at least 75% of your income every month – he couldn’t care less.
4. You hate your job – but sharing that makes him feel like you do worthless work.
Not the same/complimentary colors=ruin.