“Can you tell me why you love me?” I asked husband.
We were lying together on the sofa. He put his big hand on my forehead and pushed me away to look at me “Why?” he asked.
“I read an article about men who wrote some stuff about what makes their wives loving” I said.
“Why? Did they get caught fucking other women and had to write some shit in a magazine to prove they were sorry?” he asked through big alarmed eyes. My husband freaks out at this kind of talk, he has mild Asperger's and this sort of stuff makes him say things that take years to forget. Like once he told me he loved me because he likes freaky people. I never forgot that.
“So if you were asked to explain why you thought I was a good wife what would you say?” I pushed on.
“You are not a good wife, you can’t cook and you keep mixing up the socks and you bleach the towels and make them scratchy and you broke the washing machine, the microwave and the vacuum-cleaner”
“I don’t mean their housewife skills, I mean the husbands wrote what they loved about their wives” I explained and got annoyed because he always is so practical in his prose.
“Then they are fucking stupid, I hate that I have to suffer this shit because you are reading some crap magazine” he sneered.
“So what do you love about me?” I asked.
He rubbed his eyes, thought for a second and said “Your determination”
“Just my determination?” I smarted “Not my ability to be a good mother, or my wonderful dedication as a wife?”
“No, you were always going to be a good mother and you are not a dedicated wife, that’s so not you and you know that, why would you be?” he argued. “Who wants to be a dedicated wife?” he snorted.
“Look just say something fucking nice about me or I will bite you” I shouted now “Something that I don’t need to coach you to say” I was now annoyed.
He thought long and hard and finally said “I love that you are never scared to be truly you and your neck smells nice, I wake up to smell it and you are a bit freaky and I like freaky people”
I stared at him. He stared back. “What have I said now?”
“The freaky thing, you said that again” I grabbed his shirt “I am not freaky”
“Did I say that before and it annoyed you?” he smiled.
“Yes, you know you did”
“Well I love that you remember everything I have ever said, it’s like I have a stenographer for a wife, can you recall what I said yesterday when I asked you to pay the bills? No…you only recall what annoys you and that’s quite freaky”
I gave up.
He smiled, patted my head back down on his chest and said quietly “Be still my little freaky wife”
I may bite him.
aw. I love a love story!
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