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.
