Saturday morning, Adam was supposed to be heading home at 9:00am. I made supper plans expecting him to be home. They decided to go have breakfast and ended up not leaving until 11:15am. I was not happy. It genuinely felt like he wasn’t in any hurry to come home. Meanwhile, I’ve been over here counting down the days, hours, and minutes til his return. So, I hung up on him when he called and didn’t reply to his texts until hours later. He had text me asking “are you excited because I’m ready to be home”. A couple hours later I replied with “take highway 41 off 24 to go around the construction”. They’re doing road construction right at the Kentucky Tennessee border, so I knew it would shave off time. However, I also knew that he wouldn’t appreciate that being my only response. He almost instantly text back “well that answers that”. There were no more phone calls or texts until he got home. I stood in the kitchen and didn’t come to the door to greet him. All week, I had pictured jumping into his arms and wrapping my legs around his waist to give him the biggest hug and kiss. Unfortunately, that wasn’t how it played out. He came into the kitchen and tried to give me a kiss, but I turned and just gave him my cheek. It was nearly 10:00pm, so kids gave him some love and then it was time for bed. As soon as Adam and I climbed into bed…all hell broke loose. He said some things. I said some things. I wound up crying myself to sleep at 1:00am. Woke up at 5:00am with a headache from hell. We barely spoke to each other most of Sunday. Polite enough to not arouse suspicion with the kids, although I’m certain they heard our raised voices Saturday night. Finally, last night, while I was fixing supper, he came up behind me and spun me around and kissed my lips for the first time in over a week. I let him this time. He had really hurt my feelings, but I also can’t stand it when we’re fighting. I was feeling more alone since he’d gotten home than I had that entire week he was away. We didn’t talk about it all until bedtime. We sat in bed and both apologized for stupid shit we’d said. More tears that I couldn’t stop from forming began to fall down my face. He hates when I cry. I hate when I cry! I feel weak and pathetic. I honestly don’t cry very often at all. Once we had talked it out, I laid in his arms and kept my head on his chest. He asked me if a spanking would help. I said “No, not tonight please. I need you to love me right now.” He gently kissed me and rolled over on top of me. He made love to me in that typically boring, slow, soft, missionary position way and it was exactly what I needed.
I know that very soon, I will be getting spanked for ignoring him, twice. It just wasn’t the right time last night. I sometimes think what about him? I don’t get to spank his ass when he screws up. I realize, though, that he does get punished. He has the responsibility to fix it. He has the weight of his failure. He lost my respect and a piece of my heart, even if temporarily. That kills him. He has to work to regain my full trust. I told him what that does to me. Having this assurance that he would never be hateful toward me, even in anger. His words cut me like a knife. It takes time for me to truly trust that he will not do this again the next time he’s upset with me. It makes it so much harder to come to him and confess anything. I put up a wall. I don’t mean to, it isn’t what I want, but I worry that I can’t trust him to protect me when he’s the one who has caused me this kind of hurt. It isn’t like I didn’t say or do anything that wasn’t nice. I definitely did. I suppose it isn’t fair then, but that’s my point. These things are his punishment, even if it isn’t necessarily meant to be. I don’t distance myself emotionally because it’s what I want. I’m protecting myself.
Today is a brand new day. He went to work this morning. I got my kiss before he left. The knots in my stomach are nearly all gone. The hurt has lessened significantly. We will get back to us very soon. Maybe a spanking would help now?