Sometimes, like now as he sits there clicking his pen and bouncing a leg, I wonder about us. How is it that two people so different and yet so similar be together? I’m sure that just as his pen clicking drives me batty there are things I do that drive him crazy too.
Of sure there are things we have in common, a love of books, words and debate for example. And yet it is those very things that drive us apart at times. We each get lost sometimes in whatever we are reading, completely lost to,the point of not hearing the other person. Anything and everything is open for debate for the mere sake of debate itself. And words can be used to skewer each other in moments of hurt, rage or fear.
then there is his insane belief that tea will fix anything. Foolish man, anyone knows that coffee is the answer. Just as a civilized person knows to put the sections back in order after it’s been read. He leaves it in a jumble and says it’s not rocket science to figure out the order.
there are days I wonder how he gets through life without people looking after him. He can become so engrossed in something that he misses meals or appointments and then other days when he seems impossible to be entertained.
I’m sure he has those moments where he wonders what he got himself into as well. My need for coffee upon waking causes him to groan. My ability to stick stubbornly to something rather than admit defeat have led to missed appointments and unnecessary stress. My inability to enjoy he beach in the rain means outings on his own. Land while he professes to love it, I believe he actual has grown weary of my constant complaining to the television about something I saw in a show or commercial.
He adores and chips, pretentious wine and ballet. I much prefer not to have fish and chips, don’t put much on pretentious wine because it’s the flavour that counts and cannot for the life of me get into watching ballet.
I drag him to graveyards, sporting events and put-of-the-way places that require long drives. He hates sporting events, long drives can wear on him and he says he doesn’t need to see graveyards before he is in one, for good.
Sarcasm drips from my words frequently, I’m pretty sure this is a disability, where as he tends save sarcasm and use it sparingly.
Perhaps it is because we balance each other that it works. And perhaps it’s just a dear of a murder charge that prevents us from reaching that point. All I know is despite all of those annoying things it works!