Stan's 51st birthday was last Thursday. Because we agreed not to exchange gifts this year, I decided to be extra nice for the entire day. Like none of the 4 C's—complaining, criticizing, comparing, or controlling.
No mentioning the trash on the floor or the toilet seat left up or the crusty dishes on the counter. I brought him a hot cup of coffee in the morning and offered to run an errand for him in the afternoon.
We spontaneously decided to meet at an Indian restaurant for lunch.
I had a wonderful day, he said that night.
I did, too.
On Monday morning as we were sitting in our ma and pa recliners on either side of the fireplace, he looked up from his phone and asked what I wanted to do that week. This surprised me as he's not a planner. He’s more of a moment-to-moment kind of guy.
I'd like to walk the dogs together, I said.
Let's do it, he said. This surprised me because usually he hates walking. He's more of a skateboard, motorcycle, fast car kind of guy.
His openness gave me the courage to ask a question I'd been holding close to my heart. Do you think we should go back to counseling? I asked.
Sure, we could, he said. But I'd rather spend more time together first. Tears rolled down my cheeks. That's what I'd been longing for.
It wasn’t until talking to a girlfriend a few days later that I put 2 + 2 together. I’d made a practice of being nice to him and he wanted to spend more time with me. Who the hell knew?