Writing Prompt: “Sex, Love, and Pain – Part 2” (#93)

My husband is writing with me this morning.

The writing prompt, chosen by him, is “Sex, Love, and Pain – Part 2″….

….so here we go…

First of all, why “Sex, Love, and Pain – Part 2”?  That sounds like a 112 demo tape from the early 1990s.  Or the next Jodeci album.  Also, why the “Part 2” — have you been married before and didn’t tell me?

Speaking of marriage, it’s a rollercoaster.  I love my husband this morning, but I didn’t like him from Wednesday night to Thursday afternoon because he wouldn’t share his stovetop freshly-popped popcorn with me.  Well, he would have shared it, but I saw the look in his eyes and I knew that he didn’t want to share it with me.  It made me so sad because I always share my snacks with him without hesitation.  I even offer to make his breakfast plate in the morning…WITH COFFEE.  I mean, popcorn eating in the bed is supposed to be “our thing”….


You hear it all the time:  Don’t let the sun go down on your anger.  This becomes a little tricky when you are married because there are times when it’s late – like 11:59 pm – and you are still mad as hell.  But then you realize that you are really too tired to be mad for real.  Then you remember that you read a story on HuffPo about someone not waking up from their sleep then you throw your hands up and say, “Dear God, I don’t like him but let him wake up tomorrow because most of the time he is a really great person.”  And after you find yourself giving God at least ten reasons why you want your spouse to wake up in the morning it’s pretty much impossible to stay angry.

On sex: I can’t write too much about this because my mother and mother in-law tend to read my random blogs and they are both Sunday School teachers.  (Hi Moms!)

On love and pain:  I thought I loved my husband before I got married but thinking back, it’s probably fair to say that I just realllllllly, realllllly liked him.  I loved things that I knew about him and I really loved the way that he looked.  Even now after seven years, I still think he is cute, and I still like to get busy late in the midnight hour.  But the depths of his heart wouldn’t be revealed to me until after we endured our fair share of struggle.  Struggle that I wasn’t always 100% confident that we would get through.

But if it wasn’t for those difficult times, my love for him wouldn’t have been refined.  It wouldn’t be discerning enough to know when to love him like his momma versus when to love him like a friend and his lover.  Without those difficult times, I wouldn’t know to pray for him before I went to bed, even when I was mad at him.  I wouldn’t know that the best way to get him to fix me popcorn tomorrow is to fix him some popcorn tonight.

[Time’s up…I just read my husband’s piece.  He just wrote a prelude to a book. WTH?]



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