Cautionary Husband found the blog on Thursday. And read it. And things have been unbelievably shitty. And neither of us really knows where to go from here.
Yesterday he gave me back his wedding band. He told me to give it back to him when it means something to me. I’m wearing it on my right thumb as I type, as if I’m married to myself, carrying both emblems of our marriage on my own two hands. It’s not especially comfortable, having a thick gold band on my right thumb, but the idea of it just sitting in a drawer somewhere, no one wearing it, my band without a living partner, is intolerable.
I’m having a difficult time figuring out what to do about my blog. I can feel myself rebounding from the blogger’s block, but now there’s another, bigger block: my marriage.
You all asked me wonderful questions. Questions that I look forward to answering. I guess I just have to find the courage to answer them in spite of who’s reading. Or maybe work my way back towards my prior boldness, question by question.
There is one I can answer with ease.
Q: Would you rather burp confetti or fart purple gas?
A: Confetti. Without a doubt. Because if you know me at all, you would know that even reading the word “fart” absolutely mortifies me. Also, who doesn’t love confetti?