"I'm sorry I'm not perfect".
That is what he says to me. And most sad of all, I believe he really means that. He really is sorry.
I don't want perfection, though. I never did.
Last night I was cleaning out old emails and old email addresses. And in doing so, I found emails between Jason and I. From 1999.
That was such an exciting time, back when we first met. I remembered how I couldn't wait to see him. Couldn't wait to be with him. And how, eventually, wanted so badly to marry him.
I need to remember that, sometimes. Maybe all the time.
Yesterday church was about conflict. Of course it was because, as I've said before, God sometimes just ignores me and sits my ass down where he wants me to be. When the sermon began it seemed like it was going to be about conflict in the church, but as he talked it became more and more about conflict with one's spouse.
It was interesting, I suppose. We were sitting side by side and I was not looking at him. Not even glancing at him. I had been crying all morning Sunday. I can't even really tell you why, because I don't know. Everything just feels really impossible right now. I can't fix it. I've always been able to fix it. But this time? I don't know how.
The invitation was offered and my husband leaned over and said quietly to me,
"I'm so sorry. I'm just so sorry. I've not been the husband you deserve. And I'm so sorry."
Again, it's not that simple. I suppose it never is.
But maybe it is. Maybe that's where you go from here.