For My Husband

I’ve always wanted to write an entry that is an honest depiction of my husband’s good qualities. I’ve started and stopped writing this entry in my head for years now. I never get very far. I often come here to vent. I come here when I’m angry, frustrated, and exasperated. I come here to read and get lost in other people’s lives. Writing an entry about what I love about my husband has always seemed to be an extremely daunting task. I am going back home to him in a few hours to try and save my marriage for what I think will be the last time. This is my attempt to remind myself why I’m doing just that. It will be random and no one but me will probably see how much some of this really means but it’s all honest. I hope some clarity will be had to all the naysayer but as always, it doesn’t really matter if this doesn’t sound right to anyone else in the world because it’s what’s right for me. This entry has been years coming, it’s gonna be long and scattered. Get comfy because I gotta go back 19 years to truly remember real love.

My husband and I were best friends before we were anything else. Both of us were headed down ugly paths, and making stupid decisions. We had both given our hearts to people that didn’t really want them. I cried and leaned on him and he seethed and and yelled in frustration to me. We used to talk about everything. We sought each other out for comfort and it wasn’t a sexual thing for a long, long time. We just needed someone in our lives that truly cared. He often ditched school to come pick me up off of the floor of my bedroom. He was there for me, more times than I can count. He was the first guy in my life to be a real friend. All the other guys in my life always started friendly but would end up wanting to paw at me after a few hours of listening to my sorrows. We were alone in an empty house, in my locked bedroom for hours, talking, listening to music, crying, and often cuddling. Yet, he never even kissed my neck or touched me inappropriately there was only genuine comfort and companionship.

I was the one who finally crossed that line. When my desire for him was finally apparent it shocked the hell out of me. I had truly not even realized it because I was too busy pining over someone that didn’t want me. It all came to the surface the first time that I seen him with the bitch that had been playing him. The bitch that kept stringing him along with sex to keep him complacent and agreeable to the nastiness that she would make him put up with. When I seen them together, she was draped around him like a serpent and I burned with rage. My best friend was being toyed with, my pillar was being abused and I wanted to rip her fucking heart out for every scar that she left in him. It was those surfaced feelings that opened my eyes to what was really in my heart.

In the next few weeks, I began trying to open his eyes. I began trying to make him see what I had started to see. I wrote him letters and poems, nothing blatantly obvious because I had never had to be so aggressive before. I had always been able to lure guys in by simply being me. This puzzle was new to me. It makes me laugh to think about how oblivious he was to my feeble attempts at being coy. Everything I tried went zipping right over his head, it was ridiculously frustrating and endearing at the same time. We were already very affectionate verbally and physically so I couldn’t even use the normal girly flirtations in my arsenal.

Finally, I just went for it. We had spent the entire day together and still didn’t want to leave each other. He walked me home and we continued talking on the side of my house. I can still see the dark starry night sky, and the way the street lamp lit his face. I was in the shadow of the house trying to hide my nervousness. We talked about what a good day it had been and how easy it was to spend hours together. He came towards me to hug me goodbye. I told him in his ear that maybe he should try asking me out on a real date and see how much better these days could be. He froze in my arms. It was the cutest thing ever! He pulled away from me to look me in the face but kept me in his arms and stuttered the word "W-w-what?". I looked him right in the eyes and repeated myself. He let me go suddenly and I got scared. He said, "What are you saying, *Mouse*?". I told him, "I want to see where this friendship can go. I’ve felt more than friendship for you for a lon. . ." I was interrupted by him rushing at me, taking me in his arms and kissing me with a fire I had never felt before. It was amazing and I still feel the same fire when he kisses me with that desire even today. It doesn’t happen often anymore, in fact it probably hasn’t happened in years.

As teenagers do, we got lost in the fire and passion of kissing. I wasn’t terribly experienced sexually so that first night didn’t progress much farther than those passionate kisses and eager hands. The heat and feeling behind those kisses was enough to nearly make my heart explode. I didn’t understand how all of this desire had remained hidden for so long. I stopped him breathlessly and flushed to ask why he’d never made a move before. His answer was tearful, beautiful, and so honest it nearly broke my heart.

I don’t deserve you, you are so far out of my league. I couldn’t even let myself hope that someone like you would even consider someone like me, not even in my dreams did I ever think I had a chance in hell.

Those words stole my heart permanently on that first night after our very first kiss. I know it’s hard to believe but since that night, he and I have been nearly inseparable. This week that I’ve spent at my Mother’s, is the longest voluntary time a part that we have ever had. The only other time was when he spent a few weeks in jail. I’ve written about that somewhere in my past entries.

That’s the root of my love for him but there’s so much more. He’s fiercely loyal to my son and I. He’s the first person in my life to not abandon me. I’ve been abandoned by everyone I cared for, friends, family, and past loves. Some of it my own doing, but mostly I was left alone to take care of myself and question why I was never good enough to stay with. I was even abandoned by both my parents at one point in my life or another but never by him. Not one single time has he ever uttered the intent to leave me. He never considered running away, even when he was lost, frustrated, and scared taking care of a newborn baby while he was only 16 years old himself. He was all alone struggling to figure out what to do with this beautiful newborn baby boy while I was at school or working crazy long inhuman hours at the hospital. A lot of girls in our neighborhood had become teenage Mom’s and not a single one had the baby’s father stick around. I have always been incredibly proud and even envied by others because of that.

Everyday since our son was born and we moved in together as a family, the important part of his days are spent taking care of what needs to be done for

our home. Whether it’s cooking, cleaning, or teaching our son how to do chores, there’s always something that needs to be done and it never ends. He wants perfection because it’s the only job that he has to accomplish. He believes that if things aren’t perfect then it reflects badly on him. Does he lose his temper? Yes, and that is one of the things that I’m begging him to learn to let go. He has lost sight of how to set appropriate priorities. It is more important to fold the laundry exactly right or put the groceries away just so than it is to speak to his loved ones without animosity and anger. He’s lost sight of what’s really important. He will need to remember why he tries to keep such a beautiful home which is the happiness of the family who shares it.

My husband is even more loyal than I am, truth be told. I have struggle with temptations of the flesh. Although, I have never had another man inside me since we committed ourselves to each other all those years ago I fully admit that I have had several questionable encounters and I have let my heart wander far deeper than a married woman should. In the last 10 years, my husband and I have become extremely dysfunctional in our sexual relationship. It’s too hard to get into the details and I’m trying to keep this entry a positive look at my husband. Let me just say that I’ve catered to all my husband’s desires which forced my own needs on a shelf. I know that’s cryptic but it’s all I’m willing to give. I believe that if we both invest everything that we know about how to touch each other, we can still find our way back to a very healthy place.

Lastly, I need to mention the point that he brings up every time we argue. Normally, I don’t let him get away with this argument because in the scheme of what a relationship needs it’s common sense that these things should happen. My husband has changed everything about who he was. My husband is a natural born thug, plain and simple. Before he gave me his life and his heart, my husband was a criminal and well on his way to being a drug addict. Everyone in our group thought that he would end up dead or in jail, including me. Even after that wonderful first night, I refused to be his girlfriend. I refused to be exclusive. I told him I didn’t intend to dedicate my life to a man that would either die or end up in jail. It took 2 weeks until he was willing to promise me that he would permanently leave that life behind and almost instantaneously after that promise he did. Being a criminal was my husband’s identity, when he walked away from that lifestyle I became his identity. Is it really so shocking that he doesn’t know what he is without me?

Yes, my husband is possessive and controlling but it’s born from his fear of losing everything he holds dear to him. I made the mistake of catering to his insecurities and bending at his every whim to try to make him believe how very important he is to me. I never tried to push him into accomplishing anything in life because I didn’t want him to feel picked on and undervalued and for the simple fact that it was convenient for me for him to always be here taking care of the house and our son. Things have gone way too far, and we both need so much more out of life to be happy. I am willing to try again. I am willing to remember everything that I love about him but I am no longer willing to allow the abuse on either of our parts. I hope we can find our way back to what is most important because underneath all the anger and resentment we are actually both screaming the same thing at each other.

You are my heart.

You are my love.

I should be loved by you.