2am rambling of the resident tumblr weirdo and drama queen. I’m going to gush about my husband. Y'all ready?
I do not have my shit together. The shit is not together and imam mess.
But you know what I realized? Despite my ginormous elephant sized mental issues? My life’s kinda perfect.
I’m not wealthy, I don’t drive a fancy car and 9/10 you’ll find me in sweats and a bun, because getting orange soda out of anything is murder.
But, my husband? I don’t know how I managed to snag this man. He puts up with everything I throw at him, with such An amazing grace and understanding. Since this episode started he’s been working from home. He makes sure I eat. He cooks every night, does the washing and ironing, cleans the house (If I haven’t sterilized every surface already) he will put socks on my feet. He brushes my hair (If I allow him. It’s a touch thing) if I’m feeling particularly sensitive he takes over for me with grandma and he will wait for me to text him I’m alright and come join me.
He’s never suffered mental illness. He doesn’t know what it does to a person. He was raised in a patriarchal culture, with emphasis placed strongly on being tough and manly. And…he isn’t.
Damn right he’s scary af if someone I don’t want to comes near me. If there inappropriate comments being made. Oh yeah. You better run. He’s trained in mma and krav maga. He could kick your ass seven ways to Sunday before you raised your hand. But never once have I been afraid of him. Or felt unsafe. He doesn’t complain or get snappy when I hit a snag. He doesn’t complain when I pick up weight because of it. He goes out of his way to make me feel like the most gorgeous woman in the world. It got to a point where I began feeling guilty.
I was slacking on my side of things. He was being run ragged between all of us. He was tired and stressed and cranky. And I knew it was my fault. So I brought it up. I told him how sorry I was for being so broken. How terrible I felt for not helping more. How sick he must be of it. Idk why you married me? The whole spiel his reply?
“I’d slog through all the shit if I get to be with you babe. I married you and your unicorns. I like taking care of you. I like making things easier for you. I’ll gut anyone who says otherwise.”
I cried like a boy loosing his first rugby game, there was snot, and hiccups. And incoherent hyperventilating words no one could figure out. Known what he did?
He drove to the garage at 11pm for ice cream and m&m’s came home, made me tea and put on a crime doc for me to watch while he did the sewing I neglected.