This reminded me of a metaphor about love as a "house," but it can be extended to marriage:
‏أنْ تحبّ شخصًا أشبه بالإنتقال إلى منزل جديد. في البداية تقع في حب كلِّ الأشياءِ الجديدة، مُندهشًا كل صباح من أنّ كل هذا يخصّك؛ كما لو كُنت خائفًا من أنْ يأتي أحدهم فجأةً ويقتحم الباب ليقول لك أنّ خطًأ فظيعًا قد حدث، وأنّه لم يكن مقدّرًا لك في الواقع العيش في مكان رائع كهذا. ثم على مر السنوات تتقشّر الجدران، ويتشقق الخشب هنا وهناك، وتبدأ بحب ذلك البيت كثيرًا؛ ليس بسبب كل حسناته، وإنما بالأحرى بسبب علّاته. وشيئًا فشيئًا تُصبح على معرفة بكل ركن من أركانه وزاويةٍ من زواياه، وكيف تتجنّب نسيان المفتاح داخل القفل عندما يكون الطقس باردًا في الخارج، وأيًّا من ألواح الأرضية يتحرّك قليلًا عندما يدوس أحدهم عليه، أو بالضبط كيف تفتح باب خزانة الملابس دون إحداث صرير. هذه هي الأسرار الصغيرة التي تجعل منه منزلك.

Also, if I may be allowed to crudely generalize:
When you examine Western culture's fantasies and expectations, you find them all seeking a steady state of things; they want to achieve a state of eternal happiness, of excitement, and of tranquility all at the same time even though these concepts are antithetical, and even though it's impossible to maintain such euphoric feelings continuously over a long period of time (have you ever known a person who's been happy or excited* for more than a month or even a week?).

The fantasies of Arabian-Islamic literature and life appreciate the ups and downs of life more realistically. A good marriage (notice that prior to modern era, it was very uncommon to hear the term "happy marriage" in our culture) is only maintained because both parties have actively decided to make it work without primarily relying on the oscillating, fleeting nature of love and emotions (not to say that they are unimportant or irrelevant). The priority in the Arabian-Islamic life is for duty; one lives a good life if one fulfills his duties in life, whatever they may be. In this context, love and its moments act as sweet interjections into the ordinary, dutiful pace of life:
دي ليلة حب حلوة
بألف ليلة وليلة
بكل العمر، هو العمر إيه غير ليلة
زي الليلة...
A man must be prudent, wise, and proud in his conduct, except in love where he is allowed to be heedless, a fool, and be humbled by it:
قد كُنتُ ذا صبرٍ وذا سَلْوَةٍ
فإستَشهَدا في طاعةِ الحُبِ
لا جَعَلَ اللّٰهُ رَسِيسَ الهَوى
أشَدَّ سُلطاناً على القَلبِ

*Feelings like excitement and happiness require their opposites in order to exist and be truly appreciated: excitement cannot exist without boredom preceeding it, and happiness feels like walking into open space because it follows the suffocating, drowning feeling of unhappiness. They are felt the same way a change of weather is felt, like a cool breeze of air in a hot summer day.

We spend our lives in tension between reacting to what life throws at us and our attempts to gain/regain control over our own fate.

*Most of the time we just react*

Bot:
جاي أقرا بالجريدة وضحكت فجة من أستوعبت دتشرح عن الزواج العربي/الإسلامي بس بالانكليزي

سخرية القدر

*Listen to your patient; he is telling you the diagnosis.*

Ask not what disease the person has, but rather what person the disease has..

The good physician treats the disease; the great physician treats the patient who has the disease.

(William Osler)

.

Hume (and Kant following him) had this idea:
1. Our perception of the object—any object—constantly changes.
2. The real object does not.
3. Therefore, we perceive something else—mental images—not the real object.

What they were basically implying is that we're always living in the world of appearances (phenomena) and are never in touch with reality, with the object-in-itself (Kant called it noumena, or Ding-an-Sich). You can see this line of reasoning continuing up until modern times, where it takes the form of "you hallucinate your reality." Or "your brain makes up your reality" and instead of proving it logically, some smart guy tries to prove it through superficially-understood brain sciences.

Edmund Husserl's phenomenology upsets this line of reasoning in an intriguing way. Husserl actually agrees with Hume over the first two propositions, but he reaches an entirely different conclusion:

1. Our perception of the object—any object—constantly changes.
2. The real object does not.
3. The changing perception presents the same real object in all its reality [from different points of view].

Husserl calls the various appearances of the same object "adumbrations," or so many shadows the object casts as it is explored by us. The object [the thing-in-itself] does not hide behind its appearances. The appearances rather are the thing's disclosure. Appearances are the way to know the real object in all its sides and from different points of view.
Appearances are indeed fleeting, as Hume suggests, but they constantly present the reality of the perceived thing. Hence appearances are not simply private, for they put us into contact with the public features of things.

In reality, appearances bond us to what appears rather than stand between us and what appears; they belong to the very being of the thing that appears. This explains why, most of the time, we all share the same perceptions: we all see the same objects and perceive them in almost the same way. It never happens that you see a truck, and the guy next to you says it's a chair (unless one of you is high).

The phenomenologist Robert Sokolowski argues that sense perception is not a matter of brute impacts on our sensory receptors. Rather, the energy that our senses tap into is ambient energy: the light scattered by a perceptible thing is not some random chaotic energy. Rather, it is configured by the very shape and texture of the thing that reflected it. Configured energy bears the appearance of a thing, the way it looks.