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September 26, 2016

Hi, September has been quiet here, and it is passing. I thought I had news, then I didn’t, or rather it turned a different sort of information, then I had news of different sorts again.

The brother-in-law visited, and we were sad to send him off yesterday. I ought to be vacuuming the apartment, dusting literal cobwebs, but there are corners in my own mind asking for airing first.

I am generally the sort of person who speaks frankly, and prefer frankness in return. Two weekends ago I said I’d choose honesty over happiness, and say it again. I abstractly understand that there are perfectly delightful people who would have happiness over honesty, and while that is rather mind boggling for me, I see carefully choosing another’s happiness at the expense of one’s honesty as a startling expression of love. I still prefer honesty, though-

I acknowledge that submitting another’s happiness above one’s honesty is superior to direct arguments for self. Ideally, both parties are free to speak openly and eloquently without fear of the other backtracking too quickly. I would love to speak fully and hear you speak to the end- a complex situation benefits from both perspectives explored as thoroughly as possible.

But argument is an art, and I’m afraid I sound more like a bull sometimes. And it isn’t too logical to stand ground against a bull. My toreador rarely fights with me. So I lose anyway. Don’t wna lose anymore.

I don’t like what this is going to mean for me, but this twisting in the pit of my gut is familiar by now. I’m going to try, and hopefully it will be worth it.

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Syrian refugee and refugee volunteer.

Credit: the atlas of beauty

Marriage

September 4, 2016

[husband ate hell fish last night so he’s lying in bed after multiple toilet trips]

Me: it’s dinnertime, let’s go eat
Him: I’m not feeling well dear
Me: [throws a tantrum and storms off to play solitaire]

-one hour later-

Me: [comes back to the bed and curls up next to him, waking him up]
Him: mmphrf?
Me: [starts tearing up]
Him: why are you crying?
Me: I’m hungry!

– he then resolves to head out to get me food, but I suffer a fit of the conscience and insist that I have stuff in the fridge and can cook, and he can rest at home. After a twenty minute argument which involves locking him out of the balcony in a bid to get my way, he wins –

Me: [bursts into tears]
Him: why are you crying?
Me: because I feel ashamed of my earlier tantrum and now we’re going out even though you’re not feeling well!

-we head out to a new place and I eat the best Margaret de canard of my life-

Honey, if you’re reading this, I love you and you’re the husband I don’t deserve<3 I’ll make it up to you somehow.