Imperfect Prince Charming

There are moments in the experience of marriage that just totally suck. I make an honest effort to forget those moments. I try really hard to focus on the good parts of being Mrs Chief. The majority of the time he is an amazing husband. The majority of the time he is so encouraging and loving. But randomly, out of nowhere, these asshole days appear and you're left wounded and hurt, curled up in a ball feeling sorry for yourself.

I know he can't be perfect. I recognize that he can't always say and do everything right. But there are real moments when you are expecting him to be that perfect guy that he almost always is, where you are actually needing him to be that guy, and he falls so far from even close that you're left kind of silent.

I mean, what is there to say? Of course, the usual, that really hurt. This really sucks. Yada yada yada. And of course moving past it and refocusing one's attention on what really matters is critical. But in the moment, in the thick mire and grit...

It's amazing how the female brain immediately turns the slightest disappointment into grand gestures. If he heavy sighs that must mean: a, b, or c. If he looks away it's absolutely d. It's really a sickness to be so insecure and uncomfortable with oneself. It's really quite disturbing to be so ultra dependent on him being what I know him to be the majority of the time...

The truth is, love has made me crazy. That's the simple way to break it all down. Love has turned me sappy, girly, codependent, needy, and into a complete shadow of my former self. And I love it. I love every minute of it. I love that one random freaking imperfect person crept into my completely bass akwards brain and turned me into something else. Or at least became the platform from which I could jump beyond myself. And I love that I need him. I love that I ache for him. I love that he can hurt me. I love that he can really hurt me. I love that he can hurt me more than I can hurt myself because that's... that's the picture that I always wanted. That's the dream that I always had. That I would learn to need someone. That I would learn to love someone. That I would want someone more than I wanted an illusion. And that I would be completely aware of all of their flaws and all of their bullshit and that wouldn't be enough to make me say "F" it. That I would be completely invested, even with my eyes wide open to their weaknesses and their flaws. That I would have the one person that chose never to manipulate or hide from. The one person that didn't have to peel back my layers, because I would just expose them. The one person with whom I couldn't help but stop hiding...

So when all of that gets blended up and mixed with months of frustration and aggravation, in one random moment, he didn't do the thing I most needed him to do. And I am sitting here curled up and feeling so hurt and so sad and it kind of feels good. I am experiencing the vulnerability of love.