The Gardener
The Husband…
I like the husband. My husband.
This September will mark 12 years of our marriage. It has been definitely rocky, especially at the beginning, then the middle, and sure, yeah, recently too.
Basically, rocky with a scattering of a healthy dose of matrimony bliss.
He had made me feel like I was living in the bottom of hell, yes. At some point, he did, for a while.
He had also made me feel so lucky to be married to him, yup, that too.
At this point in time, I can’t ask for a more perfect husband.
At this point in time, I am afraid of a life without him.
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He has brought life into my life.
I am such a lucky BITCH!
He makes the bed every morning, knowing how I like to return home from work to a nice, beautifully made bed.
He makes me wonderfully crafted cocktails using the herbs he grows himself.
He grows flowers in our backyard because he knows I absolutely love looking at flowers while drinking my morning coffee or reading my book by the bedroom window.
Where do you find a husband like that?
I thank myself for the patience I had to wait for the day when I see the best version of himself show up for our marriage. Not by choice, of course. I am just lucky this version shows up in this lifetime. Many women didn’t have that luck.
I do wonder sometimes, though, is this version going to disappear? Would I be brought up to paradise just so I will be thrown back down into the bottomless pit of hell once more?
But I have learned from my books and my therapist to live in the moment. To not project myself, whether into the past or into the future.
To just be.
And damn…he makes my “being” in this moment so…utterly, perfectly, blissed.
