Ping, ping, ping came the sound from outside late last night. I sat up in bed, poked French Husband, "It is raining cats and dogs, or is the sky falling? Listen to it coming down!"
The window was left open, a habit of mine when I go to bed, we both got up to look outside and if truth be known to see who would win…. window left open– me, or window closed– him.
"That's not rain, it is hail," he said. We both starred at the star-less sky and watched the ground turn white as snow. "Fallen stars," I thought out loud.
After an eternity we looked at each other, then at the window…. French Husband turned and walked to the bed. I shut the window, but not completely.
After twenty some years I think I got his number: Mr. Reverse
Psychology is his name. If he had closed the window I would have balked and opened
it. I am stubborn like that. So instead he does the opposite of what he wants, knowing I will
succumb to my kinder sense and close it…. well half way at least.
50/50 works. Maybe in another twenty years I will learn to give two thousand percent.
But then again maybe love is letting go and letting be, open, closed and somewhere in between.
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