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“I’m trying.”

My husband and I got to watch The Battle of the Five Armies (for FREEE, thank you, RedBox). We have been waiting a very long time to see it and as soon as it was available I tracked down a free rental code and reserved it. It was the only piece of good timing we’ve had for a long time. We watched it, cuddled up on the couch, him with his brownies and me with my Nutella mug cake. Afterwards, we cuddled some more and talked.

“You’ve been different the last couple weeks.” I said.

“I’m trying.” He replied.

That was the extent of that conversation, two lines in total, and it meant the world to me.

It’s easy to love someone during that honeymoon phase, or someone who’s, well, easy to love.

I am not easy to love.

My husband is. Well, mostly, and most of the time.

He’s trying. I am not easy to love and he is trying.

He grew up with a certain necessary sarcasm and emotional constipation which were essential to him coping with what he had to. Being as emotionally sensitive as I am the sarcasm comes across as more hurtful than sarcastic and I have a hard time telling when he’s joking or when he’s angry. After six years of marriage we’re still that way. With all the stress we’ve been under he has been more sarcastic, I have been more scatter-brained and chaotic. We were not playing off of each other well.

04222015

“I’m Trying.”

My husband and I got to watch The Battle of the Five Armies (for FREEE, thank you, RedBox). We have been waiting a very long time to see it and as soon as it was available I tracked down a free rental code and reserved it. It was the only piece of good timing we’ve had for a long time. We watched it, cuddled up on the couch, him with his brownies and me with my Nutella mug cake. Afterwards, we cuddled some more and talked.

“You’ve been different the last couple weeks.” I said.

“I’m trying.” He replied.

That was the extent of that conversation, two lines in total, and it meant the world to me.

It’s easy to love someone during that honeymoon phase, or someone who’s, well, easy to love.

I am not easy to love.

My husband is. Well, mostly, and most of the time.

He’s trying. I am not easy to love and he is trying.

He grew up with a certain necessary sarcasm and emotional constipation which were essential to him coping with what he had to. Being as emotionally sensitive as I am the sarcasm comes across as more hurtful than sarcastic and I have a hard time telling when he’s joking or when he’s angry. After six years of marriage we’re still that way. With all the stress we’ve been under he has been more sarcastic, I have been more scatter-brained and chaotic. We were not playing off of each other well.

Then, a few weeks ago, instead of making a sarcastic, hurtful comment… he made a kind one. I don’t think he realized how deeply unhappy his behavior had been making me, so when I didn’t know how to respond to a kindness it struck him where we were finding ourselves. I was unhappy. I was unhappy and stressed and becoming more unable to keep the unhappiness in check until we worked through things or they got better or whatever improvements might happen. We had talked about our relationship, the word “unhappy” hadn’t been used but I’m pretty sure there was enough description tossed out between us that he understood where I was coming from.

So… without me asking him to, he changed, or is trying. “I’m trying,” the singular phrase that has me more in love with my husband than ever, even when I thought I couldn’t love him anymore.  He goes off and changes. I don’t think I could ever love him enough. He has broken my heart with kindness over and over and over again in regard to so many things. Can he be an ass and callous and crass, of course! But he is so much more than that, too.

Then, a few weeks ago, instead of making a sarcastic, hurtful comment… he made a kind one. I don’t think he realized how deeply unhappy his behavior had been making me, so when I didn’t know how to respond to a kindness it struck him where we were finding ourselves. I was unhappy. I was unhappy and stressed and becoming more unable to keep the unhappiness in check until we worked through things or they got better or whatever improvements might happen. We had talked about our relationship, the word “unhappy” hadn’t been used but I’m pretty sure there was enough description tossed out between us that he understood where I was coming from.

So… without me asking him to, he changed, or is trying. “I’m trying,” the singular phrase that has me more in love with my husband than ever, even when I thought I couldn’t love him anymore.  He goes off and changes. I don’t think I could ever love him enough. He has broken my heart with kindness over and over and over again in regard to so many things. Can he be an ass and callous and crass, of course! But he is so much more than that, too.

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