Editor’s Note: So I know you’re chomping at the bit to hear from Daniel Fox, and I assure you that you will. But today’s post is being interrupted by a different guest blogger. That blogger is Priscilla’s relational side that needs to say a few things to her husband. She was going to post this on their upcoming anniversary, but a situation has arisen which adds both urgency and necessity to the picture. The whole world needs to hear because it’s the only way she can appropriately give weight to the her dreadfulness and the nature of her beloved.

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Monk,

I’ve spent the past five years of my life with you, which is the longest amount of time I’ve maintained interest in ANYTHING. I know you blame my short-term interests in my love of Animaniacs as a child; the show you claimed was for “hyper kids.” When you’ve climbed into bed, pulled the comforter up to your chin, and closed your eyes, and I suddenly run into the room to jump on the bed flopping all over your chest and crying out “Wake up! I want to play!” I can totally understand why you need to find SOMETHING to blame, even an innocent cartoon.

But I haven’t grown tired of you. And I can’t see myself ever growing tired of you. On the contrary, I feel like I’m just starting to get to know you. You’re the most complex and fascinating person I’ve ever met. I love the way your brain works, and I love that I don’t even really know how your brain works. I fell in love with your brain five years ago even though my brain could hardly keep itself focused on your brain because you kept walking around… being all tall, dark and handsome and whatnot. And that can NOT be blamed on Animaniacs, thankyouverymuch!

Before I met you I was erratic and unpredictable, even to myself. I haven’t lost my urge to do spontaneous things, nor have you doused my creativity. Instead I can walk forward with the plan (that was planned out!) and follow through on it (for the first time ever!) because with you I feel… safe.

I could never put into words the respect I have for you. You knew going into this how much I idolized my dad, how much I wanted to be just like him. And now I can say, and I know my dad would be happy to hear, that you are the one I want to be just like. I’ve never met anyone with such an inherent understanding of truth. Someone whose judgment is rarely blurred, and whose word is never compromised. You are a man that others respect, a person that others want to follow. And that’s why it makes complete Calvinistic sense to me that I wound up with you. Because it’s clear to everyone involved that I need your assistance in that area of my life.

With you I’ve found someone who embraces his inner nerd and adores mine. The plethora of jingles we’ve written about our pets is proof positive of that. With you I’ve mellowed, and can now appreciate the viewpoints of others who might disagree vehemently with me. With you I’ve found courage to try things I only ever dreamed of, knowing that to you I’ll never be a failure. With you I’ve learned that I don’t need to shout, or stand upside down on a rooftop, because I’m going to be heard.

I’m always going to be heard. You have no idea how good that feels.

And I’m always heard even when what I say is Bad News Bears.

We have worked so hard to develop that safe, communicative place with one another. After all of the hard work and all of those trips to see our crazy marriage counselor, you’d think we would have it down pat. But alas, I wind up thinking only about number one as has been the case lately, and I am a total jerk to you. I’ve dropped the ball, let you down, and hurt you.

Hurting you makes me feel more manic than all the heartache I’ve ever felt in my life. It makes me want to run away. And if I had a bike, I’d hop on it and drive to the end of the street and sit by the stop sign in hopes that being that far away from you would make my insides stop twisting. But my insides would twist away, because I can never have back the time I spent being hurtful to you, putting myself first, and acting like a child.

A week from today is our anniversary. Four years. Anniversaries and birthdays should always be a time of celebration, but somehow with us they’re always the days that wrecking balls are dropped on our relationship. And here we are, a week before that date and the wrecking ball has fallen and you have, for the 4,579th time, forgiven me. You have loved me and taken me back. You have fought for me and on my behalf. You have once again shown me that we can make it through anything.

A boy once kissed me and afterwards I looked up at him and said “You are SO out of my league.” It was the statement that did the whole relationship in.

But everybody here knows it, I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. MATTHEW HOFMANN, YOU ARE SO OUT OF MY LEAGUE. I don’t care if it goes to your head because it SHOULD. And I know that it won’t do the whole relationship in, because I’ve said worse things to you and we’ve survived.

All of this needs to be said to you NOW because I want next Thursday night. I want our anniversary for US. Just like I want 10 days with you in Patagonia… all to myself. Because it’s not vacation if you’re not having sex.

And maybe on Thursday night, maybe then we can sit at the dining room with takeout from Bobs Food and a glass of cheap wine and revel in each others’ company. You choose the music. Seriously.

I owe you my life and my sanity and all of the happiness that I currently possess. It’s all because of you.

Entreat me not to leave you or to return from following after you. For where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people, and your God my God. Where you die I will die, and there will I be buried. May the Lord do that to me and more if anything but death parts me from you.

This entry was posted on Thursday, September 11th, 2008 at 4:19 pm and is filed under Marriage, The Idiotic Things I Do. You can subscribe to any responses to this entry through the RSS feed. Don't be shy! Go ahead and leave a response, or trackback from your own site.