Being married to someone like me can't be easy. My wife, god love her, is a fairly understanding person. For the last 8 years or so she's put up with my constant worrying, trips to the ER, "urgent" doctor visits while on vacation, random drugs that make me al kinds of crazy, etc.
But she doesn't know the half of it. I don't tell her all the stuff I'm really thinking. I used to, for a few months. And then I realized that she would worry about it almost as much as I did. If I thought I was dying, she'd be worried that I was dying too. I guess that's her job, being the wife and all.
Now I try to hide most things. That's not to say she can't tell when something is wrong, but that doesn't mean I have to unload on her about it. I can just tell her I'm 'having a rough time' and she'll understand. No further explanation necessary.
Its surprising that something so reaffirming can come from all this. OK, turning the sappy crap off again.
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