He loves me. He loves me not.
I say the words I love you to my husband several times a day; I suppose it's a good thing to say those words frequently. He says them to me as well. At the end of a phone conversation, I love you. Before we go to sleep, I love you. Right before we each go to work, I love you.
It's hard to say I love you when I'm angry or hurt. Sometimes I've refused to say it, and I'm pretty sure I withheld those words as a punishment of sorts--though I hate admitting it. Or, it's too hard to say I love you 'cause I'm not about to be vulnerable right now, thank you very much.
You hurt me, Husband. I'm pissed off at you. I don't feel loving toward you. I will not say that I love you--you do not deserve to hear these words. And don't bother saying those words to me. You do not mean them. You love me not.
Last night Husband reacted to a funny story I was relaying about our dog, and he said something not-so-nice about her--my beloved darlin', gorgeous dog. Somehow--and I hate to admit this--I found myself hurt by his comment. Here's the embarassing monologue that ran through my head: How could you say such a mean thing when you know I consider her to be part of the family? Why would you say that, Husband, when you can hear how happy I am as I relay this story? Why would you burst my happy bubble--again?? Why can't you love our dog because I love our dog and every one of our kids loves the dog?
And then, right then, I plopped a huge brick on top of my keep-Husband-out-of-my-heart-because-it-hurts-too-much-wall.
Maybe it's helping to write here about walls and bricks, to own the fact that I'm a wall-builder. Because as I staggered under the weight of this brick, I could almost picture myself making the wall higher--which meant I needed to stop, lift off and put down (not drop it on my toe) the brick, and think about whether I really freakin' wanted A HIGHER WALL...?
So as I laid in bed unable to sleep, once again, it hit me like a brick. I have trust issues when it comes to husband. Duh. I trust more in my girlfriends' love, my children's love, other family members' love, God's love, than I do in my own Husband's love for me. I keep defaulting back to self-protective mode. Ouch. Sad. Silly.
Thirty-one years later and he's still here, still doing so many things right, and I'm still living in this lame, pathetic mode.
I know. It's not pretty inside my head. My thought-tapes get stuck and I keep hitting rewind and thinking the same destructive-to-my-marriage thoughts over and over again. Why, why why...? Because, because, because...
But there's hope, there's lots and lots and lots of hope.
Back to last night when I couldn't sleep, when it hit me like a brick... Once again I'm not trusting in his love for me. And I'm taking his own opinions and his own perspectives and his own issues far too personally.
It's time to create new thought-tapes, new patterns... His not liking our dog has absolutely nothing to do with me. Duh. Whether or not I feel wounded or hurt, he loves me. Whether or not I desperately wish that he would embrace my passions and loves, he loves me. Whether or not he inadvertently steps in a land-mine (and there are plenty of explosives buried here and there), he loves me. Whether or not he pisses me off to the moon and back, he loves me. Whether or not he uses the right love language to express how he loves me, he. still. loves. me.
We have lived together for 31 years and he's never even hinted at wanting to ditch me (even when he's been obviously angry with me, embarrassed by me, frustrated with me...), so either he's an incredible actor (NOT), or he really, really, really still loves me. Duh.
It's time to change the thought-tape that says, He loves me, he loves me not, and it's time to refuse to hit the rewind or default button. That's why I put these embarrassing thoughts out here in blog-o-sphere, so you'll hold me accountable. And maybe you'll have your own thought-tapes to edit/destroy, your own walls to tear down? Maybe not.
No matter what I write about Husband and marriage and bricks and our __________, know this, please, please, please: Do not judge husband when I relay our junk. Husband is faithful. Husband is a gift from God in my life. Husband and I are just a couple of bozos on this bus together, and we've been riding this frickin-rickety bus for 31 years, and we're trying to stop having the same ________ break-downs! I love Husband so much it hurts. We're a pretty swingin' couple. Hmmmmm...
And Husband loves me. He loves me. He loves me.