This is a kinda important bit.

Before I got married I had one or two very close friends whom I still love deeply.  But marriage changes things, especially when you go and move about 40 miles away shortly afterwards.  Even that was kinda OK because I got on really well with people at work.

But then I lost that job and, well, about the only close friend I’ve had in my life since has been my wife.  That’s over 10 years ago, just to put a little perspective on it.

Now I never really thought much about this.  For sure I’d occasionally try and get on with other people and would sometimes get frustrated that I didn’t fit with any of the interest groups I got involved in, but it wasn’t that distressing and just meant that I’d go off the interest group.

However it did have one bad side: that when my wife rejected me it hurt me to the core.  When I say “rejected me” I do mean physically, but not necessarily full blown sexually.  And I use the verb in the continuous past sense, in other words its happened more than once (many more times!) but we’re still together in a happy and loving marriage.

To try and explain this, here’s a tale from the other night.  My wife came home all full of happiness and started flirting with me.  This happens quite a lot and usually I’m more than happy to go along with it.  However this night I knew that if it carried on I’d get the wrong idea and think something was on offer which wasn’t.  So I told her that and she backed off.

The trouble is I then felt absolutely awful for the rest of the evening, because when she tells me to back off I get really deeply wounded inside.  I can’t help it: she’s the one person I can and do open up to and the tenderness of love is alomst the only time all those social masks come off.  So I was imaging she would be that deeply wounded, even though I knew she wasn’t.

Love and the introverted creative is a terrible mix and it dogs my life.  It is so full of beautiful passion I cannot even start to describe it, but when you have that unutterably beautiful thing in your heart and cannot share it, it brings a terrible twisting pain to your emotions.

And writing this I’m doing the one thing I’ve not done for many years: I’ve got tears rolling freely down my cheeks.

Somehow I need to tell my wife this, try and explain it.  Again, I think, because I’ve probably tried before.  But not because I want her to do anything different, of because I want any kind of sympathy vote.  Simply because I want her to understand.  Because, you see, she is my love.

Hat tip to Love and the introvert.