When I departed Kyrgyzstan in December 2012, I knew that my marriage was on the rocks. I had just finished a year-long deployment to Afghanistan. It had been twelve months since I was last home in Hawaii, and I was eager to leave the arid mountains and freezing temperatures in exchange for the warm, sunny beaches of Oahu. I was also anxious to see my wife again.

The trip back took over forty-eight hours as I transitioned between airports in Asia, Siberia, and Seattle, before finally arriving in Honolulu. I was immediately greeted by 85-degree weather and sunburned tourists wearing floral-print aloha shirts and fresh orchid lei necklaces.

My wife at the time picked me up from the airport and drove us home. As we drove to the North Shore, we chatted about the dogs, our families, and work as if we were friends who had not seen each other in months.

After we left the city, the country road home took us through the Dole plantation, where endless rows of lush green pineapple bushes cut through the bright orange dirt. As we crested a large hill, I could suddenly see seven miles of beautiful aquamarine ocean and beaches. As we drove over that crest and I scanned the waves at my favorite surf spots, I began to tear up. After a year of arduous workdays, I was finally home, back to paradise.

My overseas assignment was difficult. As the chief operations officer for aviation maintenance operations, I usually worked at least twelve hours a day, six or seven days a week. Fortunately, my next assignment was a two-year paid sabbatical to complete my graduate degree at Georgia Tech.

I only had one month at home before having to pack up and leave for Atlanta. While I was overseas, my wife stayed in Hawaii. We were married for four years and lived in Hawaii for most of that time. In our case, distance did not make our hearts grow fonder. The overseas assignment strained our marriage and, upon my return, I knew that we were in trouble. While I was in Afghanistan, she had told me that she wanted a divorce, but I had hoped that I could save our marriage.

Four weeks later, my ex-wife and I filed for separation. The following day, I moved to Atlanta by myself. My month in Hawaii was made up of mixed feelings. I was excited to be back home in Hawaii but heartbroken that my marriage was clearly ending.

I don’t blame my ex-wife for the way our relationship ended. We grew apart over years for reasons that we were equally responsible for. Even though we split up on very cordial terms, the divorce still broke me. For years afterward, I felt like I was unworthy of love, and recovering from that experience was no quick process.

Although I don’t wish divorce on anyone, it did teach me an important lesson: a happy and successful marriage requires constant investment. I learned that the moment you begin to take your partner for granted is the moment that you begin to grow apart. I began to take my ex-wife for granted years before we got divorced, and by the time that we separated, there was no way to bring our relationship back together.

No matter how much you think you love each other, marriage is a fragile agreement. When I married my ex-wife, we thought that we would be together forever, “until death do us part.” But despite a great wedding and a few great years together, that didn’t happen. After I left Hawaii and moved to Atlanta, I never saw my ex-wife again.

After a couple weeks in Atlanta, I bought a luxury high-rise condo. I remember signing the mortgage paperwork and getting the keys from the real estate agent. After working nonstop for a year, I finally had some time to relax and enjoy life. It was a gorgeous condo with a sprawling view of downtown Atlanta. I was excited to move into my new home and bought a bottle of Moët & Chandon to celebrate. Regrettably, I didn’t have anyone to share the experience with.

My experience working like a maniac for a year and then arriving home and getting divorced is analogous to the series of events that many couples experience. People meet and fall in love as young professionals, then they spend the next ten or twenty years suffering evenings and weekends in order to climb up the corporate ladder. They work themselves unhealthy as they advance their businesses and careers and spend more and more time apart.

They do all this because they expect some type of paradise awaiting them at the end. For some couples, paradise is living off a pension or 401(k) and never needing to work again. For others, it’s a beautiful home in Hawaii. Whatever their intentions, when many people finally do have the time and resources to relax and enjoy life, they also find themselves divorced and alone.

As my marriage ended, and then for quite a while after, I would often wonder, Are my relationships doomed? Will I ever find love again?

And then I met Zaira.