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There are many things about me that frustrate my wife.
There are many reasons why people stay together in marriage. I think, although it is mentioned most often, love is one of the slightest of these. Love will bring people together; I don’t think it’s what keeps them together. People say opposite attracts or that people who share a common interest will be able to stay together. I don’t know. I agree that there are things about a spouse you need to like, you need to love, but I think it’s the things about your betrothed that you dislike that keep you together. Or, rather, how you are able to incorporate them into your life and live with them, or else turn into The War of the Roses and end up dead in a chandelier.
We’ve been together over seven years, longer than any other relationship I’ve had combined, and it seems that, at least right now, that she has been able to survive with my flaws.
As I have written, there are many things about me that are frustrating, but I will just cover the top three. I don’t want my faults to be my magnum opus.
I don’t do well with confrontation. Whenever Missa and I disagree about something, she wants to get right into it. And I want to ruminate over it, to let it swish around in my brain before I discuss it with the other person. Chances are if I am allowed this time, I will be able to have a civil discussion with the other person and concede to them if I realize they are actually right about something. If I am forced to confront the matter right away, I, quite frankly, can be an asshole. That really hurts Missa, who feels better when she is able to get right into something and get it over with, even if feelings are hurt for a short time.
I don’t take things seriously. Or at least I don’t appear to. There’s hardly an event in my life that I won’t respond to with a smart-ass remark. True, occasionally I get off a rather delicious bon mot. But I know, especially in times of stress, the humor does not help her. A few years ago, when we shortly thought (because of the incompetence of the military medical services--who would’ve thought?) that I might be having serious kidney issues, I reacted to it with jokes, some of which dealt with my (supposedly) imminent demise. She was not amused. Of course, for me to not be able to deal with things humorously would cause a burden on me, so I try to balance sometimes, so that the comments don’t come out as much. At least not right away, when we’re in the thick of it.
I can’t stand when people repeat themselves, when they say something to me when they’ve already said it a time or twenty before. Unfortunately, my response to this is a somewhat rude acknowledgement that I’ve heard it before.
Of course, I think those are my top three. Missa might have an entirely different set, including some that I hadn’t even thought of. But she takes them in stride, biding her time until she can cash in the insurance (that’s another one she doesn’t find funny at all).
There are many reasons why people stay together in marriage. I think, although it is mentioned most often, love is one of the slightest of these. Love will bring people together; I don’t think it’s what keeps them together. People say opposite attracts or that people who share a common interest will be able to stay together. I don’t know. I agree that there are things about a spouse you need to like, you need to love, but I think it’s the things about your betrothed that you dislike that keep you together. Or, rather, how you are able to incorporate them into your life and live with them, or else turn into The War of the Roses and end up dead in a chandelier.
We’ve been together over seven years, longer than any other relationship I’ve had combined, and it seems that, at least right now, that she has been able to survive with my flaws.
As I have written, there are many things about me that are frustrating, but I will just cover the top three. I don’t want my faults to be my magnum opus.
I don’t do well with confrontation. Whenever Missa and I disagree about something, she wants to get right into it. And I want to ruminate over it, to let it swish around in my brain before I discuss it with the other person. Chances are if I am allowed this time, I will be able to have a civil discussion with the other person and concede to them if I realize they are actually right about something. If I am forced to confront the matter right away, I, quite frankly, can be an asshole. That really hurts Missa, who feels better when she is able to get right into something and get it over with, even if feelings are hurt for a short time.
I don’t take things seriously. Or at least I don’t appear to. There’s hardly an event in my life that I won’t respond to with a smart-ass remark. True, occasionally I get off a rather delicious bon mot. But I know, especially in times of stress, the humor does not help her. A few years ago, when we shortly thought (because of the incompetence of the military medical services--who would’ve thought?) that I might be having serious kidney issues, I reacted to it with jokes, some of which dealt with my (supposedly) imminent demise. She was not amused. Of course, for me to not be able to deal with things humorously would cause a burden on me, so I try to balance sometimes, so that the comments don’t come out as much. At least not right away, when we’re in the thick of it.
I can’t stand when people repeat themselves, when they say something to me when they’ve already said it a time or twenty before. Unfortunately, my response to this is a somewhat rude acknowledgement that I’ve heard it before.
Of course, I think those are my top three. Missa might have an entirely different set, including some that I hadn’t even thought of. But she takes them in stride, biding her time until she can cash in the insurance (that’s another one she doesn’t find funny at all).
