It's been awhile, a lot has happened.
Mainly around the house. We got a new furnace put in, which lead us
to wanting to make some changes downstairs, and has now turned into a
slight overhaul of our basement. Anyone that owns their own home
knows what I'm talking about. Despite all the chaos going on right
now I wanted to share something. This is something I have been
wanting to sit down and write since it happened, but I haven't had
the chance until now.
A few weeks ago it was the 11th
anniversary of the day I met my husband. That weekend was already
insane, what with a birthday party, and a girls' day planned the day
before. Still we like to make the day nice. I know it's not our
wedding anniversary but it's special to us, as it would be to two
people that thought there were destined to be alone in life.
Things were going good. We met with my
friends for their daughter's birthday lunch request, and afterward we
went to the humane society to hold kittens. What else could make a
day more perfect, right?
After we parted ways with my friend and
her family we headed home for a little relax before we headed out to
do some errands, and that's where shit went all wrong!
I was tired—exhausted—from all the
peopling I was doing, but I was fighting through it because I didn't
want to have a negative day on our anniversary. My husband had other
plans. When we got home he started a conversation, that lead into a
debate, that lead into a mild argument for the next two hours. Before
he even opened his mouth I was already at my limit, but still I
humored him on his little rant. See my husband is someone that needs
to talk it out, everything, anything. He's a very logically guy with
an intelligent and scientific approach to things. It's a nice to have
in a relationship. Very few fights in the 11 years we've been
together, but sometimes it's also annoying as piss. This was one of
those times.
To sum up what happened, the night
before I took one of those silly internet quizzes. “See if you can
answer these questions that special FBI agents have to answer.” I
got them all right because I watch wayyy too many crime
documentaries. When I asked my husband if he wanted to take it, he
was game. We often take these quiz things together, a fun little
thing we do. I wasn't expecting any problems, but question two had
other plans. He said the wording of the second question made it
impossible to answer correctly (he had trouble figuring it out, which
I have since found out many have had trouble with that question),
while I stated you had to use the information in the question and the
accompanying picture to get the correct answer. He still stated that
even with the picture the wording of the question made it impossible
to answer correctly.
I shrugged and said, “fine, whatever
it's just a silly test thing. Maybe I got it right because my brain
thinks differently.” Meaning I lived a messed up life, and I see
the darker side of people. Not a good thing but it has it's benefits.
Over 20 hours later he was still hung
up on the fact I saw nothing wrong with how the question was worded,
and I didn't understand where he had the problem with the wording. He
explained his perspective, and I humored him and explained mine.
That's how our disagreements go, we state our different standpoints
and then work from there. Thing is he wasn't budging on his point of
view, and I wasn't going to relent mine (that is something I would do
often in my life before therapy). Half way through the two hour back
and forth I tried to end the debate with a simple, “let's agree to
disagree. You have you're view point of this question, I have mine.”
It wasn't the end of things. In fact
the simple debate quickly escalated from there because I was growing
more exhausted and hungry at this point, and my husband would not let
me end the matter. He went on, and I started getting pissed off. It
was our anniversary, I had made it through the rough part of the day,
and all I wanted was to have a nice evening with my husband. Instead
he was going on and on about a STUPID question. One he got
wrong, so it made this whole thing seem like him trying to save his
wounded pride. Which pissed me off even more because I couldn't
believe he was being so ridiculous.
Finally, I just said, “Enough!” I
got pissy, I stopped talking, and began to shutdown as we went out to
finish our errands.
This is the point where I would sit,
staring out the window while he drives, stewing and turning my anger
inward. Punishing myself—hating myself. Why? Because I see my
husband as the most wonderful person in the world. I feel lucky to
have him tolerate me because people in my past never did. Also, I've
been brainwashed to think everything is always my fault. I'm wrong,
I'm bad. . . I'm an awful human being, and I have no right to feel
anger at someone far superior to me.
That didn't happen. For once in my life
I let the anger stew instead of turning inward on myself. I sat there
and thought—really thought—about the conversation we just had,
and how insane it was. A random question, on a silly internet quiz. .
. why? I mean, am I alone in seeing the nuttiness of this?
The more I thought about it with a
rational mind, again another first for me, the more upset I got at my
husband until we returned home. I had made up my mind in the car that
if he asked me if I was okay, or if I was upset, ect. I was going to
let him have it. Something I've never done. Sure enough he asked me a
question, and I did what I had made up my mind to do.
I let it all out.
There were tears, out of aggravation
more than anything else, and I did raise my voice. I flat out said,
“What the hell, man? Why do you care about a stupid question so
much? You ruined our special day over a silly, meaningless question
and I tried everything I could to get you to drop it. I was
understanding, and let you rant on about it but this is too much. Now
I'm pissed at you. You ruined the day I was trying so damn hard to
make pleasant.”
From here I expected the same reaction
I always got in the past. A yelling match, a fight to the bitter end,
and me tucking tail and giving in out of pure exhaustion. That didn't
happen. Honestly, I was shocked by my husband's response. Humbled,
sadden, and deeply regretful he said he was sorry and admitted he was
being stubborn (understatement).
Standing there shocked by his reaction,
he went on to ask me what I wanted from our night. If this whole
thing hadn't happened, what did I hope to do. I told him I wanted to
go out to dinner and sit and simply be together with him. He hugged
me, tight as hell, and said “then we'll do that.”
It was in that moment, stunned by my
husbands acceptance of my anger, that I started to understand all the
things my husband and therapist have been trying to telling me
through the years. I matter, my anger is valid. More than anything I
realized my husband isn't going anywhere.
For me I've felt my relationship is a
waiting game—a test—how far can I push him until he gets tired of
me. How much of my shit will he put up with before he runs away
screaming. . . where is his limit with my bullshit (I believe myself
to be an impossible burden). Because that's what I'm used to, people
turning away from me.
That day, though, I actually believed
what he often tells me, “I'm not going anywhere. No matter what.
You're my everything, and I love you.”
It took me 11 years to trust that
declaration, but I have more faith in him than I ever did before. I
trust him wholly. It's the most priceless gift he could have given me
on our anniversary.
#Anniversary #Lovers #BestHusbandEver
#MyHero #GreatestGiftEver
~Jax~
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