Breathe, eat, sleep. Wake up and do it all over again, until one day it's not as hard anymore.

I am just a Wife...

Today is a bad day. One in which I feel has been postponed for quite some time, but is ever lingering. --It is a rare day that I allow the worst of what Mr. Boots says about me to resurface and resonate within me. But today is that day. And today, I realize, I am not an attorney, I am not any one special, I do nothing extraordinary for anyone, including myself. I am just a wife.

I have wrapped up my entire existence into holding this one title- "Wife."  My pride is no longer in myself, but in what I can help my husband achieve in his career. Not in how I look, but in  the appearance of who people see on his arm. I have become an ambassador of my husbands household and goodwill, and at the very least must maintain appearances. If I can not be a good wife, I should at least appear like one.

This is no ones fault but my own. My husband never asked me to give up my entire life, my self worth, or my security to follow him....but I have, and so it is....My friends are his co-workers wives. My family is our unborn child. My financial security, dependent on his kindness. And, my self esteem dependent on his and others approval....When I fail at "my job" I feel absolutely worthless. I do not cook, I hate cleaning, and I can't get a job to contribute to our income...So, in sum, I am just a wife...a title granted to me, and held by so many others that do it so much better than I.

It could be worse. He could leave me. Then I'd be nothing. So today, I am just a wife...but at least I am that.

Thus, today will be a recoup day of picking my face up off the floor and going on. I will not cry. I will tell myself I am happy. I will clean the house I am trying so desperately to make a home. I will attempt to repair the plumbing that is consistently failing. I will discipline the unruly dog. I will do the laundry. I will get the bills paid. I will volunteer as a good wife is expected to do.  And, I will go assist the supervisor's wife install her deck because our husbands are away on duty.

I will attempt to do all this while trying to keep from crumbling inside.
I will do this without complaining to, or about, my husband.
I will remind myself, that it will not get better, it will only get worse.

He will always be gone, and even when he returns, he returns to duty.
It will only get worse.  I will always be alone.
If I can accept it, I can work with it.

This is the life I chose, so be it.

What I didn't say....

What I said: I love you.
What I was thinking:  Below.
How I feel: Better now that I wrote it out.
The end result: nothing will change. I'll send your fathers day cards to you, and another letter thanking you for all you are to me, and how proud I am...Life will resume. I'll call for fudel tomorrow. I'll proceed on living my life as YOUR wife. Because if I don't. well then what are we? I don't want to talk about it. Period.

I need a effing thank you. A simple acknowledgement that while I am not working, I am probably having an equally hard time. My refrigerator is empty, because I wait on paydays. My House is effing ridiculous, because shit is breaking down all around me. I can't do laundry and take less thank 5 minute showers because the water is fucked. The dog is going through his phases, and you are NOT here to help. NO ONE HERE gives a shit. I'm away from anyone that does. So a little courtesy...If I wanted to be single and do it all by my fucking self, I would have chosen that life, but I wanted a PARTNER. somone to share life and all its burdens with.  But I keep that shit to a minimum, and think how can I make your day a little beter. What can I send to make life a little nicer. and I'm told you have too much shit, you don't like the shit, etc etc. My instant reaction is Fuck it. Next time I won't send shit. My instant reaction is fuck, why even send a card. If its so much extra shit, FUCK it. Why bother being a wife. I'll save myself the heartache of going to the fucking mailbox each month realizing nothing I can send in a flat rate box matters. 

You ask what MORE you can do. You can say thank you and mean it. Not the obligation. 

I need a small, "thank you, baby, I know its rough" -a-  "I know babe, and the office is loving the stuff I don't use",-a-  "can I just remind you, that I love you for all your do..." 

NOT a defensive "I am appreciative"

Think outside of you. Think of what I need. Think of what your parents need. Think of what the people who spend the time money and effort to make you smile may need. 

I don't want to talk to you right now. I am beyond pissed and hurt at how you can't come up with a way to hold your arm out while you hold a box with the other arm is so difficult.  I manage to send you PLENTY of pictures of me from my cell phone doing just that....and all I asked for was ONE. 

So maybe I should say thank you. Thank you for making all my effort on you seem worthless. From this point on "Fuck it" -the house can fall apart, the tickets for the wedding can come whenever, the water can run out. FUCK IT ALL, if none of it matters.