Twice this week, we have argued over next to nothing. The first time was really bad, and it broke my heart to see her cry. Something clicks on the inside when tears form on her face and she lets herself go with an abandoned sob. I realize I have been cruel. I realize that my words are powerful, and that they have been used to attack far too often.
I see her lying on the bed, sobbing, and all I can do is feel irreparably tainted. Why can I not stop before I start and refuse to injure such a lovely woman? Why can I not sense her frailty and vulnerability and seek to protect it?
Then there are times like today when she misunderstands me and takes offense to something I did not intend. No matter how hard I try to explain, she can only hear the voice of extreme criticism. It is years of negativity which build a solid expectation of character. Had my words taken on a more positive and life giving force as a general rule, she would have learned to expect praise rather than insult.
I love my wife. My wounds have caused her pain far too often.
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