I recently confessed to my wife that I was being a pretty crappy husband lately. I could produce a list of pretty good excuses, but the truth remains. And confession may be good for the soul...but I'm not sure what it does for the soul-mate. Because I had nothing to offer except the confession. I honestly cannot pinpoint the reason I'm being an occasional insensetive dweeb of a spouse. And I can't honestly claim that the condition is going to immediately improve.
I suppose the benefit was just in exposing the ugliness. And the confession did evoke a response of something like..."well, I'm glad it's not just me." Which I interpret to mean that she knew I was the one being a jerk...but just needed confirmation from the horse's mouth. Actually, I do feel a sense of relief that I've admitted my marital malice and I can stop this pretentious act that all my little irritations are a result of some fault and flaw in my wife. Deb is not the perfect spouse, by her own admission, but she's alot closer than I sometimes give her credit for.
And interestingly enough...our 11th anniversary was this past weekend! Maybe anniversaries are a natural time for relational repairs.
1 comment:
Wow! Eleven years. Keep up the good work.
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