Some times when MQD and I climb in to bed and I can feel a distance between us I ask him a simple question. “Tell me three things you love about me,” I will say, my voice cracks and I speak in to his chest because it embarrasses me to need to hear it out loud.
My asking the question sends the message “I need to feel closer to you right now, I am feeling far away, insecure, I am beating myself up over nothing.”
His answers always bring me back to what is real. Sometimes the answers are humorous, sometimes they are sentimental, sometimes they are predictable but occasionally they take me by surprise.
“I love how sensitive you are.” I won’t ever forget the night that was his first answer. I had always assumed that my hypersensitivity, my mid-day phone calls in tears because I “am so in love with you” or because I “am so lucky,” I thought these were things MQD tolerated, not something he loved about me.
What you see isn’t always what you get. I don’t apologize anymore when what’s on the inside shows. Neither should you.