My Wife

My wife spent most of the last 3 weeks of December off of work. Then, in January, she had a four day weekend so we could move and a four day quasi-working weekend because of snow. In that time period we bought a house, packed, had Christmas, dealt with family, drove to Pennsylvania and back, moved, and got snowed in together. I’m waiting and waiting for us to finally get on each others’ nerves, but it hasn’t happened yet. 

I just love being with her. I love the way she smiles just for me. I love how soft she is and how beautiful she is. I love how she fits under my chin when I hug her close, but when we’re cuddled on the couch she seems so much bigger. I especially love her when she laughs or cries because both of those are such rarities - hidden away in her battered soul and armored defense.

But it’s not perfect, and that’s actually good. She doesn’t share what she’s thinking, so there’s a lot of confusion and literally running into each other. I am lazy and love to deliberately annoy her - a disgusting trait that’s been passed on to me with the alcoholism gene. I guess I could be worse - I could be an addict who deliberately annoys my wife.

And very recently someone told me that any frustrations I’m feeling towards other people really have to do with my inadequacies and feelings. So, sometimes, when I finally break and yell at this beautiful, imperfect person that I’m married to, I can stop and say “okay, what’s my real issue here?”


Richmond, VA

Phoebe is an artist and writer who lives in Richmond, Virginia with her wife.