January 4, 2018

I'm really not big on New Year's resolutions, but Abigail always insists that we make one every year. Last year it was joining the gym... the new one on Walker Street. She had this fantasy of being that fit couple who work out together in overpriced Lululemon pants, drink fruit-infused water from Camelbak bottles, and eat kale, wheatgrass (yum!) salads. The only reason I agreed to go was because of the free smoothie machine they have in the lobby, but once they replaced my beautiful strawberry banana smoothies with spirulina spinach ones, I saw no reason to go. Do you know what spirulina is? It's biomass of cyanobacteria. Who would willingly ingest that?

And so I had my weekends back to myself: football, a Diet Coke, and a family-size bag of Lay's sour cream and cheddar chips--my favorite. My retreat back to my old routine did not go on without the protest of Abigail, of course. She would stand in front of the TV and go on and on about how getting in shape was going to give us the chance to connect more as a married couple while giving us the benefits of a fit lifestyle. I argued that I thought our married life was fine the way it was, but that just triggered her to list all of the reasons why it wasn't fine: I was always working and never at home, I was too lazy whenever I was home, I didn't make enough time for the two of us to do anything together anymore, I never listened, and the list goes on. I just can't remember because I ended up falling asleep right there on the couch as she was talking (which, you can imagine, did not help my defense). When I woke up, I found myself tucked into a blanket with a pillow under my head. Abigail must have brought them before she went to sleep.

By now, you must think I'm an ass who doesn't appreciate his wife, but that's not the case at all. I love Abigail. She's all of the things I'm not: adventurous, bubbly, compassionate, and selfless to a fault. Dr. Coleman asked me why my affections may not be coming across. I told her it was because of all of the things I am: practical, reserved, introspective, and at times a bit reclusive. Back when we were dating, people always told us we were perfect for each other. You know, the whole "opposites attract" thing. Is it too late to admit that I've always had doubts about that philosophy? I mean, yeah opposites attract, but I can't help but feel as if I'm dragging Abigail down rather when I'm supposed to be repelling her upwards towards her ambitions and passions. Does that make me an ass? Maybe. So I suppose I'm an ass who loves his wife.

Anyway, this year she decided to sign us up for couples therapy, hence the journal writing. Normally I would never agree to something as stupid as therapy, but I thought I would at least give it a shot for her sake. Perhaps it would make her feel more loved and make me feel like less of an ass. We'll see.

- Eli