44th

This sweet man brings home a dozen roses for our 44th Anniversary. And a red envelope greets me on the table this morning. Divorce papers? Figuring it should be because we squabble so much over nothing, yet with each silly argument nothing really is unearthed, understood, or explained, each of needing something other than than the useless disagreement but never getting it.

No relationship can give to the other a cure for a wound not yet healed. And don’t we all come out of childhood, or life, with wounds? The best a partner can do is work at tolerance, kindness, understanding, acceptance, and oh god no, patience, something sorely lacking in me. The brokenness hell bent on blaming him for things he has nothing at all to do with. Rage once the size of Godzilla eating him alive.

He is the one now that sometimes emits rage. After tolerating mine for decades that might seem fair, but not in my book. No more rage please.

Yesterday my nose was cold, wrapped in a thick housecoat, a blanket on top while meditating because though the days become hot the nights are very cool. (lovely)

He comes out hours later after waking, “Should we shut the windows to keep it cool?”

Practically shivering my shock at our division of thought once again angered me.

“Do we have to START the day in opposites?” I said, frustrated, because his first words were so incredulously unbased in my own reality.

Perplexed he said, “What do you mean?”

It is exhausting trying to understand a man who has such great difficulty putting thoughts and feelings to words. But we both try and that is what counts. Perhaps someday more understanding will come for us both.

Though I haven’t read this book it must be true!

One thought on “44th

  1. I often hesitate to ask my wife questions, even the legitimate innocent ones because I get a reaction from her thst has nothing to do with the questions I ask. It comes from her brokenness.

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