I need to vent. My husband is coming home. He has been gone for five glorious weeks, vacationing in his native country in Eastern Europe. While you may think I should be jumping for joy, I'm not. Marriage has been tough--on both of us.
I was a happy, independent, single girl when we met, and had been for ten years after going through a bad divorce, or two. My husband had never been married and spent much of his life roaming the around the world living the life of Riley. He had just the right amount of machismo to attract a strong woman like myself, but what I didn't know was he had extra ounce or two of hidden in his back pocket. And, while he was initially attracted to my independence, once we married, he tried to put me on a leash. The important word here is "tried." I may have rope burns on my neck, but he is holding onto an empty leash. His mother warned us, in a language that I didn't understand, that our relationship would never work out. "Two lame donkeys can find each other in any part of the world," she huffed, shaking her head as we disagreed with her. All I have to say about that is, "hee-haw." .
My married life has been a never ending power struggle. My husband and I wake up arguing, and end the night the same way. Our fights are about crazy insane stuff. For instance, one time, my husband invited a cousin from his native country to come stay with us--indefinitely. Did I mention that he neglected to inform me of his plans until a few days before the guy arrived on our doorstep even though I pay at least half of all the bills? Hmm...My husband knew how I felt about anyone staying for more than two weeks.
Anyway, the cousin arrived, and on his first night stated to me in broken English that he was just gonna to hang out for six months or so. A job wasn't necessary since he was just visiting and not going to pay for anything. Did I mention he was forty-five years old and intended to bring his wife and two kids two months later after school let out?
Six-weeks, thirty loud, all inclusive, temper tantrums, and 90 nerve pills later, (no, I'm not an addict, and yes, the tantrums were mine.) the cousin finally surrendered, and fled the battle zone and the country. Phew!
So, when my husband informed me of his recent extended vacation plans to visit his country of origin, I stuffed his bags in the car, drove him to the airport, and ignored open-jawed passer-bys as I did a happy dance all the way back to the car in anticipation of my forthcoming alone time. And now, after five peaceful, nerve pill-free weeks on my own, my husband is coming home and I'm suppose to be happy. I need more time!
Ask me why I tolerate the madness? To make a long story short, we have one big important thing in common. We procreated and now we have an eight year old Aspergian son, who loves us both to death. (We fight over which one of us loves him more.) He is is the main reason I choose to remain in this relationship that has overrun its course and its cultural differences. Yes, it is sad, but I mostly stay for my son. I love him too much to make him unhappy
Some say, I should give up the struggle and bow down to my husband's demands and crazy ideas. (Mainly his other foreign friends.) But, I say no way, no how. It's more painful to say yes, when I fervently mean NO.
Anyway, if any of you feel like shedding a tear for me, or him, feel free. I don't want you to, but I won't stop you. If you think I'm a jerk, or not too bright, that's cool too. I have my big girl panties on. I take total responsibility for all my decisions. But, my husband is coming home. I need to vent.
Thanks for listening.