Lonely Marital Bliss

Yes, there are times that it happens. The spouse who is supposed to be your best friend, who communicates with you, seeks to understand you, is passionate about investing in connecting to you in every possible way, when she has ADHD, often forgets that you even exist.  

There's a frustration that comes with all of those thoughts that bombard her mind every waking moment (and even while she sleeps).   You wish that a majority of them could be about you so that there'd be a slight reason that she may want to communicate with you more than a few spurts of time each day. Yet, instead of being the one who "completes her," I'm more like the one who competes with her crazy mind.  

Ok, so getting her to communicate more than just random spurts of the next thing she is going to buy can be a goal construed as climbing Mt Everest.  I've accepted that maybe the neighborhood sledding hill is all that I will get, so my expectation, having been lowered, should  be easy to meet, right?  Wrong!  Inevitably, even those expectations are pushed aside by a trillion new thoughts that filled in the space of the recently lowered expectation so that I'm even hesitant to build an expectations as "unachievable" as the ant hill that frequently pops up outside of our deck, on the the ground closest to the sliding door (easy access, I'm thinking).  I'm wondering if I should just go ahead and allow my expectations to build no larger than a translucent, tiny bubble floating in the wind, that lands on the ground immediately cutting in half it's shape and will burst at the slightest sigh of wind.  Every other expectation bubble has been burst, why not add a literal one?

I then wonder, if there are no expectations, what kind of purpose am I fulfilling here?  What kind of association has been built?  Who is this person?!  Am I the poor lad who is left biting on a spoon with a perfectly boiled egg sitting in it while waiting for the supposed "marksman" to take his next shot?  Why don't I just go ahead and hold it between my upper thighs and clench my buttocks and wait for the "coup de grace?"

Sometimes I feel lonely and that my wife and I are living in a sitcom of our own making which we are unknowingly watching from some amnesia-based center for brainwashing.  Unfortunately, my memory is stubbornly staying put and she gets to trip out every day.  Just venting.  Don't care about typos.