Just when I thought

I was gearing up for a fantastic “can you believe how far we’ve come?” anniversary post.

I was going to be a great one.

We really have come quite far in this past year.

But not really as far as I imagined.

Well, maybe that isn’t a fair assessment.  I don’t know.  I don’t know.

It’s midnight, I haven’t slept for days because #2 son has some awful flesh-eating disease that keeps him up all night.  Today we finally got a big arsenal of drugs for him, including one that induces a guaranteed eight hours of sleep (for me as well as him.)  And I’m awake.

Why am I awake, you may be asking?

Because of the cherubic man snoring softly by my side.

It isn’t his fault I can’t get to sleep.  It isn’t his fault that I soak up bad information like a sponge.  It isn’t his fault that he sleeps so hard that he doesn’t hear my huffs and sighs and various and sundry attempts to inform him that I’m upset.  By him.

And really, it isn’t his fault that I’m upset.  Yeah, he did stupid stuff.  But who am I?  I have complete and total authority over my emotions and reactions.  I keep giving it to him. (and to the kids, and the smelly guy at the grocery store, and the lady who dresses better than me. . .)

Something that I am very S-L-O-W-L-Y coming to terms with is the utter and complete control over our lives, emotions, reactions, thoughts- that we can achieve through Christ.  Those moments that I refuse to pick up the old, sprung bow, but instead turn to Christ and take the shiny new one He has for me, are gloriously enlightening and freeing.  Like soaring above the trees in flight on a gorgeous spring morning.  Really and truly.  But as I have said before, I like the old one.  It doesn’t work, and I always end up miserable, but I know the smell of my own filth.  Familiarity can be its own reward.

There has been some progress though.  Instead of writing about how awful life with a gay man is, I am taking responsibility for me.  I am praising the Heavens for the goodness that can fill my soul when I open up to it.  (In case you were looking for some of the old nastiness, its stench still lingers lightly in the breeze- I haven’t completely let go.)

Who knows?  Maybe there won’t even be a confrontation in the morning.  Maybe I’ll actually go to sleep tonight.  Maybe I will.

But only if I choose to.

****Ten minutes later****

I have so much to be grateful for, and my marriage has grown and solidified by leaps and bounds in the past year.  To cast a dark shadow on what is normally a fantastic relationship, just because of one incident, would be hugely unfair and unrealistic.  I owe it to Mr. Husband sleeping soundly by my side to acknowledge that fact.

Fact is, we are so, so good.  He has become this incredibly confident, exuberant, happy and beautiful soul.  It was all there before, but there is a new sheen, or maybe an extra layer of glitter on his aura.  (it could be his whitened teeth, and his tanned skin- it’s hard to tell.  Either way, he is fabulous.)  He has come to a new level of understanding and acceptance that is just awe-inspiring.  It inspires me.

I, on the other hand, have been taken to the core of my being, and am still VERY MUCH deep in the construction process.  I believe that my framing is quite good, and now that we are moving on to the wiring and plumbing, I am beginning to see the final structure take shape.  I hesitate to jump the gun here, but we are talking MASTERPIECE!

Our marriage still somewhat resembles what it was 12 months ago, but with some things added, and others subtracted.  I am such a creature of habit and routine, I struggle with the new design.  I am told that this new structure is much more efficient and when complete, will be far more beautiful than the old one had the potential to be.  I’ll try to trust the expert.

As Mr. Man embarks on the very same business trip tomorrow that was the lynch-pin of our unraveling exactly one year ago, I humbly and gratefully acknowledge each of you who has been a force for good in our lives.  I hope you will stick around a bit longer, as I’ve gotten quite used to your support.  (I may need to eat a few extra cupcakes this week.  Just for good measure.)

Here’s to Chicago!

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