There Should Have Been Bluebirds.
After pouring my heart onto a blog that was, intentionally, three times longer than I normally allow, I had no idea what to write next. Because I still feel pretty much the same. I appreciated all the caring and love from all corners of my friend universe, but I still feel like I’m going to be alone in my own home for the rest of my life.
That said, I have decided that I will be okay with that.
My sons are great. I love them dearly. If there’s one thing I understood from the moment Baby #1 was born, it’s that no matter how they feel about me, I am going to love them unconditionally forever. That love won’t go away, no matter what they do. They may despise me but I am going to always, always love them.
My husband? Well, that’s another story. Because in spite of our vows, he is not blood-related. I could, if I wanted to, get rid of him. There’s a reason that divorce is so prevalent in this country – because literally, spouses are expendable. They don’t come with a warranty and they never live up to expectations.
Marriage is portrayed as a fairytale, all the way up until one is actually married, and then – BOOM! The wedding is over and real life just keeps going on like it always did, except now you have someone in your house who wasn’t there before. And you have to decide what to do with that person – how you’re going to act, what you really want, and how much compromise you can muster.
After my honeymoon, I distinctly remember coming home from work and walking into our darling little cottage in the woods, our heavenly abode. Bill wasn’t home yet and I looked around wondering, Hey! Where are the bluebirds?
Because I honestly expected bluebirds. I expected dinner for two to be on our tiny table, and maybe some talking salt shakers to be dancing nearby. I had seen enough Disney cartoons and happily-ever-movies to know that there should have been bluebirds, twittering around in a circle above my head.
That’s what was supposed to happen after my wedding. Suddenly I expected to find myself transformed into a Disney cartoon.
But – surprise! That is not what happened. I know – it’s unfair. I feel for the people who, like me, spend their entire lives looking for the right person only to find him, marry him, and then, with no warning whatsoever, wake up.
So here I am – 22 official years later – copping to the fact that talking to my husband is often like talking to a brick wall. He doesn’t hear me. I yell and he still doesn’t hear me. In fact, he hears less when I yell. I had to learn this. In addition, Bill has ADHD, so he only ever hears about every fifth word I say. And when I say Bill doesn’t know how to support me, I mean it. He absolutely does not know how.
This realization leaves me with a choice: do I ditch him, and go find someone who can support me the way I want to be supported? Or do I keep him (and his other fine qualities) and learn to support myself?
That’s my follow-up to my out-loud pity party from last week. But honestly? There really isn’t a question here.
Bill is giving this marriage the very best he’s got. And the best he’s got is really, really good.
He’s not perfect. There are no bluebirds (still!) but considering that he’s dealing with me, Bill is about as good a husband as anyone can have. Do I feel unsupported? Yes. Will he ever understand me? No.
But do I love him in spite of all that?
Well…. yes. We’re in this thing together – even without the help of Walt Disney. I don’t know for sure, but I think we’re going to be okay. And instead of working so hard on us, and him, I could do some work on me, since the bluebirds are a myth. In fact, I probably should have done that a long time ago.