Why I want to stay with Frank forever

When I married Frank, there were no fireworks or deep attraction like those of the fairytales. There was a really good friendship. He was kind, friendly and thoughtful. He also seemed to have what I lacked: he wasn’t forgetful. He was incredibly observant of everything around him. I enjoyed going over an event with him afterward because it often was a completely different story from the one I’d experienced. I seemed to supply the things he was lacking. I was outgoing and gathered people around me. He relied on me to start things: friendships, networking, events, trips, haunted houses, clubs, and so on. I relied on him to keep things going. With friendships, I would get forgetful and distracted and wouldn’t remember to communicate. Frank is the ultimate loyal friend and good correspondent.

Also, we never seemed to argue…we’d have these intense discussions where we’d present things from our point of view in, I’m sure, what each of us thought was a logical manner. He was unflappable for the most part…he wasn’t the type to rage or hit. He also had what seemed like an infinite amount of patience—something anyone who would dare to brave a relationship with me would have to have. He also wasn’t intimidated by me. He’d always gone toe to toe with me in the dorm committee if he felt he was right. He wouldn’t back down. But he also listened to me…gave weight to what I said and was grateful for the conversation. He came to me in a difficult moment in his life, and I was surprised to discover that not only would he listen to my advice he would value it as well.

He was the first person in my life to do a very wonderful thing…he picked me to be on his team. He asked me to be on the swim team in fact. I know that seems childish—but all my life I was picked last for anything athletic. I was the one seen as a dead weight on any team. He believed in me. Not only that, but he helped me learn. He taught and encouraged me in the way to swim in races and never once did I ever get the feeling from him that he regretted his decision to ask me to join—and I looked for that—I dreaded finding it. I thought I would sooner or later but he never did. I don’t think he’s ever understood what that meant to me.

He was also willing to open up his hobbies to me and let me join. God, I loved every one of those gaming sessions! I still have my first character. He has a way to totally wrap you up in the world of his making…they were always his. Maybe a few ideas came from a book or two, but the creativity and imagination was all his. For the first time I realized that a good fantasy book or a day-dream wasn’t the only thing in this world that could transport you into another. He helped me build characters I truly loved in the same way I loved every role I ever played on stage. I didn’t think that wonderful feeling could be replicated elsewhere before I met him.

He and I could talk for hours. He was a practical joke player and I never got tired of hearing him tell the tales of his adventures in High School. I think I’ve made him tell every single story at least three times. Also, he was in theater like me…in the drama club. He told me he liked to perform and wasn’t scared of it. Then he proved it by joining me to play recorders during a Christmas program in front of a huge audience. He has a natural gift for music that I have always envied greatly. He’s never feared performing with me, and he’s willing learned new things to perform with me…like dancing. He’s taken classes and learned to do some ballroom dances—and then, once again, proven himself by trying it out in a public setting. It was at one of my company parties, or maybe a wedding. He danced with me, when others would’ve cowered and insisted they needed more lessons. He knew maybe five different steps, we did them over and over again and we smiled the whole way through. With the amazing confidence he approaches things like that, we shouldn’t have been surprised when people complimented us. (But we were!) It didn’t stop there…he learned contra-dancing too—something that was his and mine from the start. And if I ever had any doubt that he wanted to do it, they were put to rest by the fact that he went out and found the perfect shirt to dance in—he bought more than one too.

He got along great with my mothers too, except when they ragged on me, then he would rise to my defense immediately. I never doubted for a moment that he was on my side, and my mothers liked him even more for that. Plus he put up with my father…not an easy task for any Son-in-law. My father tested and tried his patience to the extreme, but Frank never asked me to step in between. (Dad did.) He dealt with my Dad without putting me in the middle and starting a tug of war. (Dad tried.) For that I am forever grateful and profoundly sorry for those nine months I made the two of them live together.

He also is someone who could let me putter…be alone and work for hours on a puppet. He didn’t mind listening to the same movie over and over while I worked. He encouraged me then left me to it. Best of all, he would always give me excellent constructive criticism whenever I asked it of him.

Another thing I love about him is his willingness to go out and read up on a subject. When he learned I had ADHD, he got a book and read about it. When we had difficulties in day-to-day areas, he’d find a book to read on it. Before we got married, we went through one of those “Things you need to know about your future spouse” books. I truly believe that the information we learned there was one of the things that got us this far.

He’s not one for touching, but I used to catch him staring. He had this look in his eyes that made me feel like the most loved creature on the planet. He’d even do it in front of other people. Mom mentioned it to me several times. She marveled at the love there.

Though it wasn’t a clear communication to me, perhaps, as a hug or a held hand, he would find other ways that spoke volumes of love. Poetical cards and flowers—always what I wanted and who cares what all the guys in line buying flowers thought.

I loved to make things for him. He was so appreciative. I remember with crystal clarity the day I got his Greenwood costume done. He liked it so much that he wanted its exact copy if a part of it wore out from that point on. I also remember the day I gave him some Jedi robes. I was so glad I was able to make him so happy. Making him happy like that is something I’ve tried to do over and over. He tells a person that he doesn’t want anything and that making Christmas lists is a real chore for him. But the projects I’ve done for him…when he opened them…you’d think that it had been the dearest wish of his heart for his whole life.

Japan was a real test of our marriage. It was something I’d wanted to do all my life and when Frank learned I was looking into it…I wasn’t really committed to it then…he went out to dinner with a good friend of his who had done it. He learned everything he could from him and he determined that it would be a good thing for me. He was so concerned about my depression at loosing my job and the deep funk I’d sunk myself in, you see. He selflessly encouraged me to go. He reported all that his friend had said. He’d found out that I would be safe there. But none of that would’ve done the trick until he promised me he would visit me there. I was stunned…and in love…and overwhelmingly grateful for my luck in finding him. He was lonely without me, but he hid that from me. Our correspondence by email and chat was regular and he did come and spent nine of the most wonderful days of my life with me (not at all lessened in my mind by the fact that I got sick during it). I looked forward to returning to him…and, you know, I was never homesick before he visited, but after I fell into a real low point and at one time I called Mandy because she was the only one I could get a hold of and just bawled. Then when I got back, he was waiting. He threw a huge party for me and he tucked me back into his life as if I had never left. It was such an amazingly special occasion.

But it’s not just the special occasions that I love him for—sometimes I find myself in absolute joy over a simple dinner and a movie. I think fondly of our usual order of food at a Thai restaurant—two Thai Iced teas, Chicken satay and tom kai gai soup with a side of rice. It was perfect. We never had leftovers. It became comfort food for me. Even when things were tough between us we could go out for that meal and just talk.

That’s another thing…we could talk. We always could talk for hours…we never lost that. We’d talk about gaming, friends, or politics and a three and a half hour car ride would be over before we knew it. He’d come home every night and give me a (usually entertaining) account of his day. I may not have tracked the whole story because I’m not the same type of engineer but he’d make it easy for anyone to understand. I now know a great deal about a subject I have no interest in—Soil Nail Retaining Systems—and I don’t regret a moment of it.

I don’t know why I’m writing this…I don’t really know what’s going on. But I do know this…that I love that man. I want anyone who’ll pause to read this to know it too. I hope it isn’t a futile thing to explain but sometimes you get going along so fast in the here and now that you don’t look back at what was. Or I should say I don’t look back and I need to. This marriage wasn’t created out of the blue. There were good reasons; beautiful reasons and I don’t want it to end. I don’t want to loose him to anything…folly, depression, steamrolling, or my shear stupidity at times. Though I may have seemed discontented with this or that from time to time, I know now that I was happy. I was so happy and now…I’m not. Signs don’t get anymore plain than that.