You never really do know what goes on behind closed doors do you, you think that you know someone and you realise that actually you didn’t know them at all. My husband is happily married. I tell him that everyday when he wakes up and before he goes to sleep “remember you’re happily married” I chide… It’s a little giggle that we have with each other, well, that I have whilst he rolls his eyes reading the cheque stubs for the joint account, or is fixing something else I have broken. What though would I do if he wasn’t happily married?
I was brought up to be independent, work hard, earn good money and always look after yourself. When I lived on my own and in London I fixed fuses, sorted out my car, filled it with anti-freeze changed a tyre and even a spark plug, did all DIY jobs or phoned Daddy and begged him to do it. It wasn’t until I met my husband 9 years ago and he moved in after 6 months that I seemed to forget how to do everything and, succumbed to the role of damsel in distress, who couldn’t possibly do any DIY or any other male related domestic occupation.
I have once in a tantrum said “FINE! If you won’t do the blinds now I will.” He came up to our room ½ and hour later, to find me with a hacksaw ruining all the blinds as I tried to cut them to size. Needless to say he wasn’t happy and then took over. “Well I mused, if you hadn’t made me do them in the first place this wouldn’t have happened”
A close friend of mine is going through a “rough patch.” That’s a massive understatement it looks as though everything is about to come to an end. They were a couple that I always thought were happy. They had fab holidays, lovely children, great social media pictures projected to the outside world, the family kitchen was extended and everyone had lots and lots of fun. How wrong we were to think that everything was okay.
I can honestly say if my husband left me (firstly I would castrate him – which I think is pretty standard women scorn behaviour) I would easily manage to change the light bulbs, (pay someone) fix the plugs, (pay someone) change the tyres, (pay someone) and valet the car (pay someone). I wouldn’t however be able to manage with the huge gaping hole that would be let in my heart, the empty space at the breakfast and dinner table, the bed that would now be too big for me to sleep or the look on my sons face, when he is dropped home after a weekend with his Daddy.
My husband is my best friend, my soul mate, the only person that can make me laugh so much I spew my drink from my mouth all over him, the bed and the carpet, the only person (other than my mother) who holds my hair back for me when I have had too much to drink, whilst berating me at the same time, I hasten to add.
So I dedicate this to him – I love you with all my heart, and the only way you are leaving this marriage is in a box… How you end up in that box is up to you xxx
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