…..should I be standing by him?
I was travelling to work today, usually listen to Radio 4, but decided to put some music on. Listening to Sia, Breathe Me (I do recommend it, thoroughly nice track and beautiful singer). Breathe me includes the lines “hold me, wrap me up” and I burst into tears. Not done that for a while and I can’t blame it on the lack of tablets. It got me to thinking….. why did the words and sentiments behind “wrap me up” have such an effect on me? I think it’s because it’s what i’d always wanted in line, sad to say, someone to wrap me up, to look after me. And what have I got? Apologies to my husband who, when he gets out may read this but I doubt it,
I always wanted a partner who could add something to my life, someone who would take care of me, didn’t want kids, I’m selfish, I just wanted a protective arm around me and someone to fight my battles for me. I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again, I’m lazy. Those who know me know that I’m more than capable of fighting my own battles, but I idolised the idea of someone doing that for me. And here I am, doing everything for myself.
This ties in with a blog I read about why prisoner’s wives stand by their men and I admit It’s a question that bugged me before “all the evil” and bugs me to this day. Why? Surely the dynamics have changed in our relationship now, things will never be the same. I stood by my husband when he was at his lowest, suicidal ebb, I’m heard hearted I know, but not that hard. And now, now that we are on an even footing and I have taken up the reigns of running the household, are not the tables turned?
I might as well go off on my own but I still love him for all his wrong doing. I am not, however, one of those women (and I don’t judge) who stick by a repeat offender. I just know what my husband did, even though it went on for years, will not happen again. So we will have to struggle together.
There is more to married life than staying at home bringing up kids, if you have them and making the dinner and I like to think that I join that band of women who have travelled to the very precipice of married life and are clinging on to that small,spindly tree that’s always there, helpfully sticking out just over the edge of the canyon.