Your friends thought there was something wrong with you when you got engaged to your doll.
“It’s not even a real person,” they objected.
They just didn’t understand how pure your love was. Why couldn’t they see how perfect you were together?
You picked out the perfect wedding dress for her. You chose the perfect venue. You arranged everything to be as perfect as she was.
(Nothing in this flawed world, of course, could ever be as perfect as her, but you did your best.)
Friends and family were polite enough to your face, but nobody bothered even trying to talk with your Dollwife during the reception. In a huff, you carried her away, back to the sanctuary of your home.
Nobody could judge the two of you there.
Yoy didn’t need anyone else as long as you had each other. Every day you dressed her in something cute picked out just for her. You talked about anything and everything. She understood you. She always understood.
So how did dissatisfaction slowly creep up on you?
In your weaker moments, you wondered if your so-called “friends” had been right. Maybe people needed more companionship than with a doll that could only reflect your needs and would never have needs of her own.
You tried to shake those doubts away. She had to be perfect.
At last, you arrived at a moment of clarity.
She was perfect. It was you who were flawed with your fickle needs and difficult emotions, but that was eminently fixable.
So you set to work on self-improvement.
Soon there were two Dollwives, decked out in their beautiful wedding dresses, sitting side-by-side.
No more dissatisfaction or restlessness, just eternal companionship.
Now everyone had to agree that you really were perfect together.