My Husband declares himself one of the hardest people to wind up. He's Mr. Cool.
Except, of course, when it comes to me.
This I find amusing and sad. Amusing because he has SO many tics. Husband is a little arrogant. Which is one of the things I love about him. But also my main cause of strife. He truly believes he is perfect. Which of course means, he does not need to try.
Husband also is missing the part of his brain that allows for sympathy for other human beings. He's not one of those men that gets Man Flu. He rarely gets sick and if he is sick he pretends he's fine and trucks on.
So... Imagine if you will; I'm sick. sick like I am dragging my feet as I come home, coughing and gripping my side in pain, feverish, yet chilly...you know, GENERALLY unwell.
I won't go into detail, but surf ice to say, husband was mean. This is not unusual. He can be quite intolerant over little things (Like for example, I shut the cupboard door to loudly. This ensues into him accusing me of having no manners and blahblah...I stop listening). So there I am on the couch, dying (right, not dying. but still) and I say to him "please don't be mean to me tonight" to which he responds something along the lines of "I'm not going to be mean to you if you stop being such a pathetic lump on the couch".... I...simply.... sigh. Why did I expect anything else? He is not sympathetic and if anything gets even more irritable at sickness. There was a lot more rudeness in between then and that evening. And I didn't get to bed early because son was refusing sleep...But the worst?
In the middle of the night I awoke from a dream in which Husband was strangling me, so waking up my first reaction is to take a huge gasp of breath which then started me off coughing. And not like normal coughing; like whithering, can't catch my breath, think I might puke, shooting pains through my body, coughing. So there I am at 2am shoving my face into the pillow to try and keep my dying as silent as possible (YES, I know. Not dying...wotevah) and what does husband do upon awaking to discover his most beloved struggling to breathe?
Grumbles. Rolls over. Mutters something about being quite and him needing sleep. and then tells me that if its so bad I should go get some water.
I of course can't agree with him more. I need water! but I'm too busy trying TO BREATHE to get any. Of course, he doesn't offer....Despite me being, you know, married to him and shit. Which is cool, if that's how he wants it. I can TOTALLY stop being considerate and thoughtful towards him... Who am I kidding, no I can't.
Anyways, I eventually managed to claw my way to the fridge for some water and when I came back Husband suggested I take the day off work. Sweet, no? No. He didn't say it sweetly. His tone of voice said "I'm fed up with you".
Fed up with me? Fed up with me because I am sick? It's not like I can help it. Asshole.
There. Spewed it. I've been meaning to say something about this attitude of his for ages. Because, yes, although Husband is pretty darn great, he is far by perfect. BUT because he THINKS he is perfect he is getting less great day by day. If that makes sense? I don't want him to be perfect, because I am not, I just want him to try, like I do. Effort. I want effort. Oh, and kindness. Oh, and his balls on a silver platter.
Disclaimer: Husband is not abusive. He is not aggressive and he is not a bad husband. This post is merely me complaining about the things I feel effect our relationship (i.e. his short fuse) and his faults. Which of course, everyone has. Including *gasp* me. It is my prerogative as his wife to be able to complain about him. You all know that.
- ▼ October (14)