It’s Not Him, It’s You

The other day I had to do a site visit for work. We’re having an event this Friday and one of the other organizers and I wanted to check out the space, get the lay of the land if you will. While there, we happened to meet a very attractive IT who is going to assist us with our event.  Hmmm, I thought, other than his phone quacking (complete turn off BTW), he’s quite easy on the eyes. But did I think, oh hooking up with him would be great ? No. Instead I thought of my husband.

Most men, at least so my husband tells me, don’t need any kind of romantic desire in order to sleep with a woman. If she’s got two feet and a heartbeat and is willing to lay it on the line, most men are wiling to jump over the line and right in to bed. Women ? For the most part, not so much. We need that connection, that history, that certain je ne sais quois. In fact, we do sais quois and if we have a partner, they are the quois. Is that all women ? Nope. But I like to think most.

It would never occur to me to cheat on my husband. It would never be a line I would be willing or able to cross. There are many reasons for this, not the least of which is that I am a fundamentally decent human being. I can’t really lie to save my life or at least not for long. Sooner than later the guilt gets to me and I fess up. Or I just don’t bother to lie in the first place. It’s tiring keeping track of all that crap. And quite frankly it’s not worth that whole forgiveness thing anyway. Does anyone really ever forgive ? I know I don’t. Small and mean of me but true.

Now my husband has done some bone headed things in our time together. Mostly involving golf. But I will give him this: it has never occurred to me, not once, that his fidelity to me has been broken. We may joke about his girlfriend the golf course. We might banter that I can have a boyfriend if he kicks in a mortgage payment. But both of us have a deep understanding of what would be broken should we choose that path. Talk about not forgiving. I might go all Elin Nordegren on his sorry butt and then pull out another club for the hussy I catch him with.

So on this day where I meet this hunky IT man, or any hunky man for that matter, my thoughts don’t stray far from the loving man I’ve spent the last 20 years with.  In fact, it’s 20 years this month. He is the one I want to slap and tickle with. He is the one who doesn’t mind my bumps and scars. He is the one who still rings my bell and the only one with access to the bell tower.  While an attractive man might catch my eye, it is my husband on whom the monkey love would be bestowed.

My point ? I guess it brought home to me how integral my husband is to my thinking. How I consider him in most things. How after 20 years he still floats my boat, blows my kilt up and lights my fire. How I believe that in another 20 years I will be able to write another blog post about how after 40 years he still does the same things.  About how we have choices to make and if living with having to be forgiven is a choice we should choose. Me ? I’d rather make the right choice. Much like the one I made 20 years ago when I said yes.

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