I come here to vent. To tell my side of the story; my truth.
And the truth is, if you want to hear Henri’s side, you’re not going to.
Before it has been typed and published here, he has heard it first. The things I need to tell him, I do.
“I want more romance…
I want to be more sexually adventurous…
I want you to eat me out more…
I want you to spend more time with me…”
I have told him these things because as part of my personality and as his wife, I have always tried to be as honest as possible with him. I have always told Henri “before you hear it from someone else, you’ll hear it from me first.” It is a sentiment I stick to, whether the conversation is going to start an argument or hurt his feelings. Most of the time, if I come here I am usually reiterating the same subject I have spoken to him about and nothing has changed. And if it were to change, I would mention it.
I could say trust me, but I don’t have to. This is my space, to write about what I feel.
I once wrote about Henri’s side of the story when I began seeing Dre the “Dom” (and yes that Dom part is questionable as he wasn’t much of a Dom by how he disappeared). In all honesty, he didn’t like people asking him via my blog how he felt. He thought it was useless, but did it to appease me and my readers. I approached him about a comment I received and explained to him what I had written recently. I asked him if he felt I was wrong or offended in any way. He simply said no, and continued working on his computer. When I pushed a bit further, he said
“Tell them that I whisper sweet nothings in your ear. Literally, sweet nothings. Maybe they will understand that.”
I appreciate tips, comments, and advice. However I feel that sometimes I am defending myself for how I feel. Our relationship is no different that an ocean tide; sometimes it swells and it is beautiful; other times it becomes a tsunami that wreaks havoc. I have exhausted my attempts at keeping our sex life alive; it is now his turn to flip that switch. I have, on more than one occasion, surrounded the house with candles, laid out roses, dimmed the lights, had wine waiting, music playing, danced for him with a sexy outfit on–for lack of a better word, I have wooed him. And not once in the fifteen years that we’ve been together has he done the same for me. However, when this is mentioned, some people then want to say
“Well then why don’t you leave him?”
To answer that question plainly, we have a child together and simply, I love my husband. I feel it would be selfish of me to end our relationship due to our recent problems alone and deny my son a family because we can’t suck it up for a while. He possesses other qualities that are good and noble. My marriage is, as others also are, messy and confusing at times. No we are not always happy, but we are not always miserable either.
I think this best explains my current sentiment (from a page on Tumblr):
Marriage is not beautiful
Marriage is ugly, you see the absolute worst in someone. You see them when they’re mad, sad, being stubborn, when they’re so unlovable they make you scream. But you also get to see them when they are laughing so hard that tears run down their face, and they can’t help but let out those weird gurgling noises. You see them at 3am when the world is asleep except you two, and you’re eating in the middle of the kitchen floor. You get to see the side of them that no one else does, and it’s not always pretty. Its snorting while laughing, its the tears when it feels like its all crashing down, its the farting, its the bedhead and bad breath, its the random dances, its the anger and the joy. Marriage isn’t a beautiful thing, but it is amazing. It’s knowing that someone loves you so much, and won’t leave you even though you said something nasty. It’s having someone have your back no matter what. Its fights over stupid things, like someone not doing the dishes or picking up after themselves. And it’s those nights you fall asleep in each others arms, feeling like there will never be enough time with them. It’s cleaning up their throw up, or just rubbing their back when they’re sick. It’s the dirtiest, hardest, most rewarding job there is. Because at the end of the day you get to crawl into bed with your best friend, the weirdest, most annoying, loving, goofy, perfect person that you know. Marriage is not beautiful, but it’s one heaven of a ride.