Today was so bittersweet.
There was nothing exciting about it in the least. Nothing great and nothing terrible, the way that most days present themselves.
I felt a bit out of sorts all week. Mostly thanks to the monthly rush of hormones overtaking my body against my will. I've been experiencing every range of emotions from rage, hurt, tenderness, bliss, and solemnity. I'd be lying if I said I knew a great deal about coping with these extremities, so as usual, I handled them poorly and hoped that it would pass quickly.
It seems to have been contagious because I feel like my husband has mirrored every emotion at varying times, if only out of frustration. It seems to be wearing on him the way it's now wearing on me in a double dose. So I could hardly blame him for his minor meltdown this morning followed by a mild blowup at me over something trivial.
The truth is, I just need to be alone. Somehow in this strange existence I've grown into this appreciation for my time being a loner, both in circumstances and personality. I feel like societally I should be ashamed of this, but instead I've sort of embraced it and let it become a permanent part of me.
This year started off with a bang- so much excitement in such a short amount of time. I've loved every second of it. But somewhere along the way I've realized that I've had very little alone time. Much less than usual at least. And to be quite honest, I just can't function without it. I crave solemn, quiet moments more than I crave crowds and acceptance, or social interactions. That's not to say that I don't get lonely, because the pangs of loneliness, once they set in, cannot be easily cured, even to the point of madness. I guess it just takes longer for me to get there than most people.
So after subsiding my natural reactions to lash back out at my husband, I brushed him off and went about some of my business. Not avoiding him completely, but definitely trying to sustain my momentary independence. Once I felt some portion of success, I calmed down enough to at least make it through the day. Time, as nearly always, is my best and favorite ally.
My husband is so sweet. He is everything I dreamed he would ever be and more. He is such a better husband than I am wife. I don't think his talents lie in expressing himself accurately, but I know without a shadow of a doubt that he wants the best for me, and for every other minutely important person in his life, for that matter. I have a handful of moments, like today, where I just loathe him. I want anything but to be around him. But then, there are moments when I am overwhelmed with love for him. I have had many of these moments earlier this week. The pangs of tenderness are so hard to show externally, but they burn at my very soul. I can't help but remind myself that I would be nothing without him.
And where the day started out as nothing special, I end it being reminded of how lucky I am to have him and every other blessing in my life. Sometimes, after almost eight years of marriage, I look into his eyes and realize that we are but familiar strangers just helping each other through life. That love really is a force drawing us to each other, every hour of every day, despite the angst we might feel for each other at times. And that if I could go back in time and choose all over again, I wouldn't choose any differently.
I guess today was really special after all.
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