I was walking down the sidewalk past this outdoor bar along the river. It’s connected to the Saturday local farmers market where I had just come from. This dad (who I recognized as a local actor and member of our church) had the largest smile on his face. Him and his kids were playing bean bags, parallel to the sidewalk.
I wanted him to be my husband, and his kids my kids. They were all so happy, and genuinely laughing about the fun they were having.
I don’t get that. My husband rarely smiles or enjoys anything unless it’s planned and there’s nothing else that “has” to be done. He wasn’t yet diagnosed with Obsessive Compulsive Personality Disorder, but he hits every criteria and has been that way “since everyone can remember”. A key indicator.
He held it together pretty well in the beginning of our relationship, but as time went on things unfolded. I found out, the genuine part I thought I fell in love with, wasn’t real. Part, but not all.
This dad had the biggest smile, that felt as though he was inviting me to something amazing. “Come, join my amazing happy family”…and I would have. I remember the moment as if it were the sunniest day. It wasn’t. It was gloomy and drizzling. I want that happy. I want my husband to feel happy.
He sees the world as “contaminated” and everyone in it “lax”. He doesn’t have an observing ego to teach him any other way to live. If he saw how sad, and depressed, and bored I am with the life we’re creating, he would want change. But we don’t grow… we are stuck in this mundane ritual where I try not to “bother him”. We’re always on eggshells, waiting for him to “complain”.
Those big deep dimples. I wanted to touch them with my finger tips. As his kids were laughing he glanced over and gave a nod. I smiled back…not nearly as big and genuine as he gave me. I was longing for what he had and that made me lonely.
I’m sure my kids will be affected, but be sometimes makes a good argument and then I feel like the dumbass. Controlling is rarely in my vocabulary and that’s the last thing I want to be. But I need my kids to be happy. When he’s in a good place and less stressed, he’s better.
But that’s rare.
I want the life I’ve dreamed about.
I want happy.