My H and I dated in high school. We rarely actually went “out”, just spent every available minute together. He was into me long before I decided I was into him. I remember the first time he said he loved me, when we were seniors. I replied with, “I love you too…I think.” Gosh, I was just a teenie-bopper. I didn’t know what love really was. But I knew I didn’t like how alone and anxious I felt when he didn’t call or he wasn’t around.
Over the fifteen years that have followed, I often noticed that we didn’t talk on a deep level, didn’t discuss our hopes and dreams. Well, strike that. I talked about them. He didn’t. See, he’s the guy who just doesn’t spend time worrying about the past or the future. He’s just takin’ care of today. And today has a LOT of work to be done. So, “no, I don’t have time to go to dinner with you. No, I don’t want to talk about having kids or where I want to be in five years. No, I don’t want to go to bed at the same time as you. Sorry, I have servers to configure and ATVs to modify and houses to build. Oh, I said I’d be home from this business trip tomorrow? Maybe next week. You want me to share my feelings with you? Can’t. I don’t have any.”
I never thought of myself as perfect, but I think I’m a great wife. I take care of myself. I keep a nice home. I am a good cook. I admit that I’ve done more whining than I should have (everyone has to learn how to deal with life, and I think I’ve done a lot of that through this experience) but I have never been witchy or abusive in any way. I’ve always believed that he should be able to pursue his interests and hobbies. I’ve always supported and encouraged him to do what he wanted—I have friends who freak out when their H isn’t home immediately after work to take care of the kids and house and laundry—my H has never had those expectations placed on him. I’ve never wanted to do anything but the right thing.
I admit, I have done some things he didn’t want me to do. At the time, I had no idea how he felt. He never told me what he wanted, so I just assumed he wanted the same things I did. He left all the big decisions up to me anyway. It was always, “I don’t care. Do whatever you want.” I’ve never wanted anything but to be the best wife and mother and friend I can be.
He doesn’t deserve me. Maybe he never did. But now, after all of it, I look at our little family, and I can’t turn my back on him. There’s just too much at stake. After all we’ve been through, I feel like he’s the one saying, “I love you too…I think.” There’s no longer any question about that for me. I love him. I think I’ve proven that. So what’s the catch for him? What is it that keeps him from committing 100% to this M? What is it that keeps him from wanting to move home?
