What I Left Out

Did you ever start writing something and end up somewhere entirely different than where you planned on going? And, then, at 2:46 a.m., sit straight up in bed and go, "Oh crap! I meant to say...."

No? Well I guess I'm even more of a dork than I thought I was, but in any case, that's what happened to me the night after I last posted. I meant everything I said, but I definitely did not say everything I meant to say. I started talking about Hubby's patience where Mr. High School is concerned--about his lack of jealousy and somehow got sidetracked into the odd, likely chemical-driven, early days of our relationship.

What I left out was that Hubby's lack of jealousy doesn't always seem to me to be an undiluted good thing. Maybe because I'm psychotically insecure, I sometimes can't help but see it not as his trust in me, but as his certainty that I could never tempt anyone else. I know, I know. It's pathetic. It's a sickness.

Intellectually, I recognize that jealousy is at its heart about control and possession, not love, and that the line between normal, petty jealousy and violent, controlling jealousy is fine and sometimes hazy. And I'm definitely not interested in having Hubby paranoid about me leaving the house, but can't he muster a little concern?

And, while I'm poking around in the depths of my marriage, I'd like to share something about trust that also occurred to me in the middle of the night. There's a lot of talk about how important trust is in a marriage or any long-term relationship and I've thought often about its place in my marriage. Trust is essential, but it seems to me that without trust in yourself, that last little leap of fully trusting your partner is impossible. Trust should be about more than being certain he's where he says he's going to be--ideally, it's about being able to be fully yourself in your marriage.

Let that be a warning to you: That's what you get for thinking in the middle of the night. At 2:46 a.m., it's awfully hard to distinguish the brilliant glow of insight from the glaring headlight of an oncoming train of thought that's going to run you right over.