Sin So Sweet

Hang up your wings, crawl into me 
Cover me up under your sheets 
Roll back your eyes, sink in your teeth 
Show me that side that nobody sees 
I’m addicted to you, you’re addicted to me 
I’ve never tasted sin so sweet 
I’m using you, you’re using me 
I’ve never tasted sin so sweet

~Warren Zeiders

On a very different note from the one I last left off on, is something else that’s been on my mind. I can think of a few instances, over the last 6 months or so, when the “old Adam” absolutely would’ve lit the “old me’s” butt on fire. There’s no question that, when he found out I’d continued to keep things from him, I would never have avoided some serious accountability. Especially for repeating my habit of finding excuses to procrastinate, about coming to him, with things I know damn well I shouldn’t try to hide from him. A month or two ago, I confessed more than one thing I’d been keeping secret. One of those things, for nearly two months. Adam never raises his voice, or says hateful things to me, when I go to him. Even on the occasions when I haven’t approached him, and he’s discovered something I’d screwed up, he’s never been mean, no matter how upset he was. However, it is rather unusual for there to be no repercussions.

I’m not running around attempting to find ways to fuck around, or to find out. I hate to disappoint my husband, and never intentionally hurt him. My mistakes are not major ones. It’s small things, like not doing something I needed to. Or, doing something that I one thousand percent know isn’t a good idea. I’m a great big procrastinator. I get distracted, easily. I often “bite off a whole lot more than I can actually chew.” While those things can and have been the circumstances that’ve lead to a trip across Adam’s knees, they’re relatively minor “infractions”. One thing that’s always been unacceptable, is lying to him. That includes not telling him things that he has every right to know. It’s just lying by omission. Unfortunately, that’s something I’m way too good at doing. I am like a professional, when it comes to avoiding the truth, without telling a lie.

In spite of all of my “transgressions”, Adam has chosen leniency. I asked him why, recently. He told me, “Because I want you to always feel like you can come to me.” He further explained his concern over what it is that he needs to do better, so that I won’t be afraid to go to him, about anything. It’s super important to him, that he does a good job of making sure I know how much he loves me. That I can trust him, and that he always makes me feel safe. He prioritizes my own health, wealth, and happiness, well before his own. I know these things, yet I still struggle with fears that his patience and love just won’t be enough to cover me, when I screw up. So, I make weak excuses to put off bringing things up. I tell myself, he’s tired. Maybe tomorrow. Then, tomorrow brings another reason to decide it’s not the day to risk outing myself. Before I know it, weeks will go by, and I still haven’t come clean. Tension builds, because I find myself distancing from him. Not on purpose, or even consciously. It’s as if even the smallest issue is like a weed in our garden, and each missed opportunity to be honest and pluck it out, allows it to grow and multiply. Before I know it, they’ve spread into every corner. I get overwhelmed, and either lash out or shut down. I recognize how unhealthy and damaging this all can be, and I really do want to stop letting weeds into our garden.

If I’m completely honest with myself, I’m not entirely certain that I’m not manipulating my own husband. I don’t mean that I think I’m doing it in a malicious way. On some level, though, I think maybe I deploy certain specific tactics, when I’m looking to escape accountability. Scratch that. I absolutely do, do those things. There’s really no maybe about it. I look for the most prime opportunity, and I carefully choose the way I explain myself, working to effectively minimize my responsibility over my actions. I’m pretty sure that’s a precise example of manipulation.

More than virtually anything else, I truly want to be good. A good person. A good example. A good wife, mama, daughter, sister, friend. I’ve done plenty of things I’m not proud of, and I’m sure there’ll be more. I never take pleasure in someone else’s pain, and unequivocally don’t ever seek to be the cause of it. I genuinely don’t even hope for harm or hurt to come to the man who raped me. Let alone others, who’ve done things I have, am, or will have to heal from. I pray for their healing. For their souls. That they come to repentance for their sins, and that they’re made new. I really mean that.

I’m far from perfect. Blatantly flawed. I reek of sin. We don’t get any do-overs, in this life. We can’t unmake our mistakes. All we can do, is our best to do better. Apologies help, but they’re also just words. What matters is action. Taking steps forward. Striving to be a better person than I was, yesterday, and to become even better through everyday that follows.

Writing about all of this has made me realize something I hadn’t, until just now. If I were truly worried that my husband wouldn’t still love me, because of something I’ve said or done, and that was my reason for attempting to hide from him…how could I be so confident in my ability to manipulate his love for me, just to get out of a measly spanking? Clearly, I’ve been assured that his love for me far outweighs any of the things I might do to disregard rules and boundaries. I honestly hadn’t thought of that, before. I’m not sure how I managed it, but I’ve snagged myself a husband who’d hang the moon for me. And, we’ve got a rock solid foundation. One that, deep down, I know that I’m positive couldn’t crumble under the weight of all my past, present, or future wrongs. We get a heck of a lot more right, than we do wrong. I can’t begin to imagine a life without my husband. The perfect marriage is just two imperfect people, who refuse to give up on each other. So, right there’s one thing we’ve both been doing, perfectly.