For months I thought the BassMaster and I were in big, big trouble. I stopped talking to my friends, stopped blogging, stopped calling my parents (because I have one of those moms. All she has to say is, "You okay, honey?" and immediately I'm blubbering about things that happened back in third grade).
We'd fight until I could barely see through my blotchy cry-eyes (and I am an ugly crier, trust me), and still we resolved nothing. And then, having resolved nothing, we'd have the same fight three weeks later. I dragged him to therapy once and he swore never to return. I couldn't talk to anyone about it, because everyone else had a blinding ray of sunshine that shot straight out of their asses whenever I broached the subject of spouses and marriage.
For months, I watched other couples kissing and holding hands, and I hated them. I didn't even know them, and I hated them.
And then this weird thing happened. I blogged about it.
Ever since I wrote this post, things have been on an upswing - sort of a slow, cautious one with lots of plateaus...but an upswing nonetheless.
What's more, it turns out I'm not alone. Those rays of sunshine? Totally staged, in many cases. Marital suckitude is downright rampant. I received "we're in the same sh*tty boat" messages from friends and strangers alike. They provided some much-needed comfort for my battered heart.
And I know the BassMaster reads this blog. I know he reads the comments. Actually, I suspect he loooves to read what I write about him.
For the most part, I really think we're going to be okay. A few days ago, he gave Kitt a bottle without a prompt from me. This past weekend, he got up with her at 6am, fed her and played with her until I dragged my ass out of bed an hour later. I heard him babbling to her through the door.
Let's be honest, it's hard to find a guy who will squeak like someone kicked him in the nuts just to make a baby smile.
She laughs for him. He holds her more. Until she pukes on him. Then he's all game-over-you take- her-dear-God-I-have-to-change-my-shirt-RIGHT NOW.
Of course, nothing is perfect, and occasionally we take two steps back. I still sometimes feel like a piece of old furniture in the living room of his life. Like deep down, he kind of wants to get rid of me, but keeps me around because I've become part of the landscape. I'm familiar. He's had me forever. And maybe he'll feel a little guilty if he just leaves me on the side of the road.
But overall, things are good. Just good. And for a long time, I didn't think I'd ever say that again. It was a scary place.
Don't get me wrong. This does not mean that I'm done blogging about
But at least now I smile when I say it. It's sort of an evil, wait-til-they-hear-about-this-one smile...but that's a start, right?