Manage

Some of you might have read this already. Here, you may read it again. :)

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I could explode right now. I know I was right about her being tardy and forgetful. There are so many things about her that I could point out as her failures. She was late today, she left the dishes undone, and insanely heaved what seemed like a bucket of salt into the soup.

It’s one of those days. The ones where I wonder why I agreed to this social obligation; to get married. One of those days where I wish I was free from commitment, from having to be accountable and responsible for not just me anymore, but us.

I know she tries and I know I try but sometimes it gets tough. It gets hard, it gets painful and tiring. We have our differences, we argue and now I wonder how we actually manage to get on.

The dirty dishes are stacked. She’s still at work and I’m hungry with a bowl of saltwater to ease my pangs. “Ouch!” I discover an ulcer and chew on it while pushing the bowl of soup away. An unconscious habit I have had since young.

I walk to the sink and start to clear the dishes.

I notice a yellow post-it sticking out.

“ Had to jet, sorry about the mess. I know you want to say ‘I told you so’ but I really have to run. Will clean up when I get back. Love you, Maggie.”

She was right about the ‘I told you so’. I was so going to do that. I cannot stop a chuckle that escapes.

Soon a smile sneaks up on me. I begin to soap and rinse the plates. I’m doing this for us, and not me. I know she does the same-putting us before herself. And now that I think about it, I guess that’s how we manage.