runnershigh

Nov. 11, 2008 (journal entry cont)

Why did I get married? I wish there was an answer that meant more than, “because I loved him.” Does love even mean anything these days? Patience, I think out weighs love, because it requires a vast amount of focus and self control. I have to breath whenever he steps into the house, because I am certain his mood will resemble the crack of the Incredible Huck’s a**. Like now, as he vents about ways to keep me warm until the oil company comes to fill our oil tank. I can’t decided what method to choose, boiler heat, oven heat, fireplace heat, or portable electic heat. So, he explodes like a nuclear warhead landing on enemy territory. I simply stare at the man who dredges up the question, “why did I get married?” Then, I breath and exercise self control.