Real boats rock
Nothing in this universe is perfect, shocking as this sounds.
There are times when this blog appears to me to be some kind of self-built fantasy. If you go through entries it can seem like Mariah and Caira are passing figures in my life and we never do anything, because I censor myself before I write an entry. I cut out the bad things, avoid some of the squeamish good things and on the whole tidy it up a lot. No one wants to know that we had really great sex that one night (for the record, the Earth moved), or that we had a fight over the weekend.
But we did and we had. I said something upsetting, I hear something upsetting and then five minutes later we’re both wondering just how strong our marriage is. It’s never a question that you want to ask yourself, but when the person you turn to for support tells you to get your head out of your ass (danke, bose frau) and face matters you need to stop and answer it.
I feel we don’t communicate like we should. I’m loathe to speak up on an issue for a few reasons, mostly that I’m simply uncomfortable with a face-to-face confrontation. I scurry away to write length blog posts and hope that you see them.
We both had our reasons for shouting at each other, but in hindsight it was all just set dressing for skirting around the fact that we’re not communicating like we should. Maybe we need more Tom Cruise in our lives. Christ, who knows, he might help.
For my part in all of this, I’m sorry that I hurt you.