Marriage is hard.
I’m not even joking with you. Marriage takes a lot of work, it takes a lot of time, it takes a lot of understanding.
That’s probably the hardest part, honestly.
Sometimes, I don’t understand my husband. Sometimes, I don’t get him. I thought that after six years of marriage, that I would understand him more.
We’ve had ups and downs. I’ve stormed out a few times, angry and upset, yelling and screaming. He’s never stormed out, because he’s not as emotional or angry as I am.
We’ve gotten angry at each other for stupid stuff. We’ve gotten angry over important things. We fight about the budget, we fight about dinner, and we fight about what we should do with our lives.
Sometimes, even after being married for six years, I mis-read him. I think he’s being short or angry with me, when he’s really not.
My husband is a kind, wonderful, humorous, and amazing man. He puts up with me when I am at my worst. He puts up with me when I cry, when I’m overly upset about something. He puts up with me when I’m being crazy.
Because, sometimes, y’all? I’m a little crazy.
You can take the girl out of the South, but you can’t take the South out of the girl, I’m just sayin’.
My husband? Puts up with it all.
And, I can’t understand it. He puts up with me when I’m crazy, he puts up with me when I cry for no reason because I am upset over something. He puts up with me when I get angry at someone in a store after they say something rude about me or my kids and all I want to do is pummel their ass say mean things to them and hurt their feelings.
He’s sweet. He’s forgiving. He’s wonderful.
I really adore that man.
But, I hate abhor loathe his job.
He’s my Sparky Husband Man and I will love him always and forever.
And he’s not too bad looking, either. If I do say so myself, and I do.
Honestly. Life. 