Day 78: Love and Outlets

I said, "What's your happiest "us" moment this year?"
He groans and mutters "Here we go again- you always make me think!"  And it's true, my mind is composed of ten thousand writing prompts and with no students to teach, my poor husband ends up having to answer each one. 

We're eating sandwiches in the car.  Fueling up for an afternoon of Outlet (window) shopping.  And I want his answer to be some incredible single moment that I've forgotten.  Between bites of chicken salad he tells me his happiest "us" moment is when he completed his first full semester of college with just under a 3.5 GPA. 

But that's not really a single moment, is it?  I'm not supposed to judge his responses, but my answers are all red ink and corrections. 
"Your best "us" moment has nothing to do with me," I say, which isn't fair but it just comes out. 
"What this means," I continue, "is that you see me as nothing more than a way to improve your own self.  Why does everything have to come back to you?"  Even as I'm speaking, I understand that these words should stay in my head, but the ink is bleeding out and I've managed to mark up and grade his moment, as well as crush his ego, in a matter of seconds.

He looks at me then at his sandwich as if something in the chicken salad started all of this.  And the Naphtali that I know would have run this guilt for all it's worth.  She would have used his feeling bad to capitalize on a dozen honey, I love you, you're the best thing that ever happened to me's.  But I'm not the same as I was.  Instead, I put the car in park.  I turn to him and tell him that I am intensely proud of him for finishing his first semester of school, while working and managing to snag a promotion.  I tell him that he is brilliant and that he is kind.  I tell him all the things that stay inside my head when I look at him.  The things that hang behind the criticism.  I tell him how much I like to hear him say he loves me, and maybe that's insecurity and maybe that's love.  But one thing's for sure.  He's here beside me, on a Saturday, fueling up for a day of Outlet Shopping, when I know he'd rather be anywhere else.