By skyforbes Recently, a coworker gave my marriage a label of being “boring” because we tend to stay in and keep to ourselves rather than go out more than just on occasion. For context, him and I work full time in our respective fields and don’t always have the time to have extended outings. I felt off put by the label and initially brushed it off. It stayed with me for a few days, and after work, when him and I were doing our weekly puzzle at the table, he asked me about it.
He wasn’t sure what was bothering me, but he did know there was something there. I think I needed that nudge, because I doubt it would’ve come up otherwise. When I told him, all he did was smile and say “I love being boring. You’re what makes my head quiet after dealing with people all day.” And he simply went back to doing our puzzle.
It made me think of all the things we share, puzzle nights, sharing chores that typically could be done individually, how he helps me dye my hair despite having done it alone for years before meeting him. How we read together, owning two copies of a book to be able to talk about the story after finishing each one. He’s a gentle man, quiet but when he speaks, his words hold weight and meaning to them. He’s helped me become less anxious, less of a control freak.
And I love him for it. I love him for it all. I love existing with him. I love crying in his arms. I love seeing his face relax when he walks through our front door, like he’s always relieved to be home. I love when he wishlists games on steam he thinks I’d like, even when out of the two of us, he’s the bigger gamer. He always said he prefers when I play because he gets to watch my reactions to it all.
I love being with him. And I sincerely can’t wait to be boring with him for the rest of our lives.