Otherwise, it's not. With a willingness to work - and change - it's literally never too late.
I'm going to break a loosely-held rule and talk about my own marriage.
In 2002, Barbara and I were married. In 2003, we were divorced.
The fault was mine. I had been ill when we married, and I was taking large doses of painkillers. The strain on Barbara was far beyond anything I could have imagined, and when I improved somewhat - and we had a support system to take care of me - she felt she could take a couple of weeks with her family in the Midwest (we lived in Texas).
I resented it bitterly, and when she returned midway through a road trip with her folks I was cold and distant. She had been looking forward to seeing me again, and when she found the new, horrible me - she collapsed. Her parents took her back home with them, to give her the chance to recover.
Under the influence of drugs, and a thoroughly nasty relative, I was convinced she was leaving me, and was further convinced to see a lawyer, who convinced me that if I filed for divorce first I would have the upper hand.
Thus I stabbed a caring, loving woman in the back.
There was a shred of decency left in my heart, though, because the next day, on going to work, I looked like death. A colleague took one look, bundled me into an elevator, and hustled me to his office, where he called his wife - who was a therapist.
And thus began a long, slow climb back to humanity.
I didn't abort the divorce. I don't know why - it might not have worked. But I also didn't do what one normally does. Barbara stayed on my savings and checking accounts, and I made sure she knew that she could use them freely. (I found out later that she wondered what kind of game I was playing...and then decided to trust my good intentions.)
And when I went in for a medical procedure that was likely to kill me, I chose her as my medical power of attorney.
We hadn't talked on the phone since I called for divorce, but on the day before the procedure I called her. Got voicemail, but I left a message that made it clear I was wrong, and that I was sorry.
She called back a few days later, when I was in recovery. She said she'd be there for me, but that there was no road back.
But there was. I stayed in touch, and stayed in therapy, and on April 18, 2004, she called me and said, "I think I want my husband back."
On June 24, 2004, we were remarried.
George Eliot once said that it's never too late to be the person you were meant to be.
And I believe, and hope you do, too, that it's never to late to have the marriage you were meant to have.
Please don't give up.
This post is linked to Wedded Wednesday, a compendium of really cool posts on marriage. If you click on the logo below, you'll be taken to www.messymarriage.com, which is the springboard to a wealth of information.