Friday September 7th, 2018 02:41 Microcosmal public notice

While I usually stick to writing here about quote-unquote “bigger” things, an occurrence just occurred that I thought of note:

My wife was going to bed – before me, as is almost always the case – and for a moment I was arrested. Looking at her through a heart tearing itself apart with throes of boundless love. Thoughts born from a realm of my mind that knows no existence without her presence. Waves of deferred guilt at my immense privilege to have, in all the world, found this wonderful woman at all, let alone have her love me. Waves broken apart and crashing down about my mind, splashing away all the guilt of that moment, but also all my anger and my hatred and my worst self; all those washed away in the moment that was ever more sweetened knowing that I only had to look at her to be so moved.

Then she asks when the hell I’m going to turn off the light so she can go to sleep.

That there is the microcosm. Obviously that of marriage. A great one, as it is.

The public notice is of the same origin.

In so much as:

No one. Not one person. Not one film. Not one song. Not one relative. Not one parent. No one.

No one ever thought it germane to mention that marriage included being sent out of the room because my adoring stare lasted longer than she intended to wait for me to turn out the bedroom light.

Don’t get me wrong. Marrying her is still – by a damn sight – the best decision I ever made.

Well, my decision was to ask if she’d marry me. But at that point I pretty much knew the answer.

Still, this shit was not in the manual.

And at times like this, I feel that I more readily understand those for whom marriage doesn’t work or those whose relationship wasn’t built to deal with such things or those who simply made a mistake and shouldn’t have married at all.

Truthfully, being happily married seems to be the best way to understand how other people’s marriages fail.

Because no matter how your marriage is going or at what duration it may reasonably expect, the baseline is that this covenant/agreement/partnership/etc is going to be effing hard to maintain.

Shit, when I was 19, I lied to my own parents about intentionally not entering the dormroom lottery so I could get a place with my friends off campus.

It was my first apartment. And at the time it was awesome.

But, looking back, I see how I exchanged a sense of freedom for rent I could barely afford and a random roommate who at one point tried to break down my door and stab me to death.

Granted, that was because I peed on his bed.

Not for random jollies. I had a good reason. Even warned him that such would be a consequence of his insanely selfish and at times hateful behavior. Unfortunate then that he came home drunk out of his mind on the exact day I actually did it.

Now we hit an interesting point.

As far as a cohesive narrative, it surely sounds that I’m well off the rails at this point. Vegas wouldn’t even work the odds on that – have to go to Branson or something.

Yet, the incomplete story of attempted murder by my ex-roommate from almost 20 years ago really ties into the theme, if you think about it.

Well, once I mention how I intend for you to think about it. Otherwise it’s naught but the spewings of a gobshite.

side note: 10 points to me for confusing spellcheck with a real word twice in one sentence just there

The point is that something as extreme as pissing in your roommate’s bed and having him try to break down your bedroom door while wielding a carving knife…that’s easy compared to marriage.

And at the same time, marriage is a cakewalk in comparison.

Fucking confusing, right?

Because the end of my story on this day involves telling you that I do not, for one nanosecond, regret taking the time to look at my wonderful wife. Forget the rebuke. Nevermind anything that’s happened in our long history together. Nevermind what was happening today.

Nevermind anything.

I love that woman, and at the time I just wanted to look at her.

And, essentially, she told me to fuck off at that same moment.

Which is your true public service message:

If you want to get married, first run through that scenario in your head.

You lovingly gaze upon your spouse. Nothing overtly sexual or anything. Just looking at that person with the eyes of someone who can’t believe that the random universe we occupy managed to produce a result this good in your own small life. That you managed to find a connection with another person; one so deep you can’t even imagine existing without them.

Then they basically tell you to fuck off.

Then you walk out of the room.

Because your spouse is tired and has things going on and what kind of asshole would keep them from sleeping and man I love them and, oh, gotta walk away now so they can sleep.

That run-on insult to a proper sentence? That’s my PSA.

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IT guy, dev, designer, writer.

Got a degree in print journalism from UF but history dealt some bad cards to that industry, so I moved back to an earlier love: the computer.

Was recently at ZMOS Networks, but am now the Senior IT Associate at the Edna McConnell Clark Foundation.

My name is moderately common, as are a couple screen names, so always look for the logo to make sure you're reading something with official Km approval.

You can get to me directly with kyle(@)