My husband is a good man.
A really, really good man.
Not that he is perfect (which I thought he was for many years), but he is good and great and wonderful and kind.
Plus a total hottie.
He is so good to me.
He still loves me even though I don't really keep a clean house at all right now and I made dinner for the first time in a month last night and have no intention of doing it again for... maybe a month.
He still loves me.
The other night we were having one of those lay-on-the-bed-and-solve-the-mysteries-of-the-universe discussions. I've had a certain topic on my mind lately and wanted some more clarification, even though I've been asking questions of him all along. Sometimes this drives him kind of crazy, but he tries to be patient, makes sure I don't see him role his eyes, and tries to answer as accurately as possible or at least give his most honest and heartfelt two-cents. After I came to the conclusion I came to and felt satisfied, he gave me a big honest smile and held my hand and kind of laughed at me.
Our minds think just so incredibly differently, and we discussed how we make our marriage work so easily sometimes. We are just so opposite in so many things, but we are happy and friends -- not always, but almost always. We talked about how it can be hard to relate to the others train of thought or belief on certain topics, but never hard to think the other person is funny or cute or honestly likable. And we solved a great mystery, and it goes like this:
His mind thinks about present and temporal issues.
My mind thinks about hypothetical and philosophical issues.
He wants to solve the problems at work. I want to solve the problems with humanity.
Together, maybe we can create a lifetime of functional family and interesting conversations. That's our goal.
A few weeks ago my cousin got married. I am so happy for her and her husband, and they are so cute together. At the wedding luncheon I got pressured into giving the advice for our table -- people always assume that because I'm an actress I want to get up in front of people -- when quite the opposite is true (I can get up... I just don't want to unless I'm pretending I'm someone else!). I couldn't think of how to articulate what I wanted to say, so I said our philosophy is we can want to kill each other, but we'll never leave each other. I sounded like a total moron. What I was trying to articulate, and did so incredibly poorly, was this: In our marriage, we are 100% committed to each other, no matter what, we are in this for keeps. And I want that for my cousin and her husband, too. Of course, later a dude from another table kind of chastised me for my irreverent comment and then, being hormonal, I spent the rest of the day worried I was an as-seen-on-t.v. idiot. I was worried I had hurt my husband, so I kept apologizing. Finally he put his hands on my shoulders, looked into my eyes and said "I knew exactly what you meant. I love you." And I felt better. He is pretty darn wonderful.
He listens to me when I feel I must rant or die.
When I puke, he's right there rubbing my back and analyzing how I throw up different then anybody else in the world.
When I read in a book about a McDouble and it sounds really good at 10:45 at night, he's ready and willing to jump in the car and go get me one. I don't make him do it.
But the willingness is incredibly desirable.
I am pretty darn lucky.