I’m a sucky wife some days. Well, let’s be honest, a lot of days.
He gets the leftovers and life gets the main dish.
I don’t have that same twinkle in my eye, drop everything, you have my full attention attitude toward him like I did when we met a decade ago. Instead, we share half-hearted conversation as we each scroll through stupid Facebook videos on the couch at the end of a long day.
When I get home at night most of my energy goes into playing hot wheels with my son, throwing together lunches for the next day, and drying the same load of laundry for the third time because I keep forgetting it in the washer.
Most nights I am asleep before he ever graces the bedroom.
And when he does, he can find me lying in my Walmart nightgown, snoring, with a drool stain on my pillow. Yikes, what a sight.
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We both hold extra pounds from years of Red Baron pizza dinners, late Dairy Queen blizzard runs, and too many PBRs to count. Our once youthful fresh faces are now covered with worries and the responsibility of adult life. And we actually like to Netflix and chill rather than Netflix and Chillin’.
I pour so much of myself into every area of my life and because of that, my husband often gets the drips of what is left. It’s not fair. But I’m thankful.
Thankful for a husband who loves me for who I am.
Who loves me through my obsessive worrying, constant second-guessing, and furniture rearranging.
Thankful for my husband who doesn’t ask more of me than he knows I can give during this season. A man who recognizes that through this ride he has also changed, and it’s OK we are a different couple than we were when we first started.
So when he asked me today if I wanted to go to Barnes & Noble for coffee and books randomly, I was caught off guard in the most delightful way.
He keeps trying.
Even through the mundane, imperfect majority of our marriage, I hope we keep finding each other again in these moments. Even though it’s just for an hour, we dated.
Previously published on the author’s Facebook page