Article by Wendy McCance
Last night, I had a small amount of time with my husband without the kids around. We had said goodnight, went up to bed and were spending our last minutes before sleep watching the end of a football game.
I had been on the computer earlier watching a documentary about Fleetwood Mac. The band fascinates me, especially since their best album was made while the band was in its worst state of turmoil. It’s fascinating to see how a passion for what you love can propel you through your darkest hours handing you the ultimate gift after fighting through blood, sweat and tears.
Moments like this, when I read or watch something about human nature that inspires me, I end up picking my husband’s brain with a thousand questions. Although he is usually game to answer a few questions, if I get too deep he begins to feel the exhaustion of all the intrinsic details I am examining.
It occurred to me last night in the midst of asking him questions that I felt an odd sense of floating alone in the world. My husband really does get who I am about 85%. There is a small portion of who I am that I don’t think anyone has ever gotten close enough to completely understand since I was a kid.
Much of the time, I enjoy living in my mind more than living in the moment. As I say this, it sounds crazy even to my own mind. I get this incredible kick out of being able to create. It is surely an obsession that if not touched on daily makes me feel a little out of my soul. I feel a little off when I am not able to put words to paper or draw a picture or listen to music that gets my mind moving and thinking about the littlest of things.
My husband will say often that the things I question have never been on his radar. He has trouble understanding how or why I question the smallest most minute of subjects. I am so curious and want to so completely understand the entire human experience before I die.
My husband in contrast goes through life without seeing or feeling the little details. He doesn’t pick up on smells or music which take him back to a memory. He can’t sit on a porch and look around at the view as though he is seeing a masterpiece of a painting. He just doesn’t have the same sort of sharp focus.
I often wonder if this is what a writer’s mind is like? Or even the individual that creates for a living. Not those who are trying to eek out a living, but those that have no choice because creating is something they obsess over.
There are times when I share my thoughts with my husband and feel like he must think I am a little nuts. He doesn’t portray that attitude, but when a response is one of complete lack of understanding, it makes me pull back and quietly reel in my emotions. I no longer want to share for fear that I will look crazy for the way I soak it all up.
I have not had the pleasure of meeting other creative types who live a life in this same fashion. I have not met someone who gets carried away in their own mind, feeling an incredible sense of fulfillment in what they are able to create out of thin air. Or maybe I have, but they just didn’t share this information with me.
So, I ask you, are all writers this way?
My husband has a way of quieting that need I have for him to know and understand all of me. He tells me that know one can know every nuance of an individual. It’s just not possible. This disappoints me because of my fascination for understanding what makes a person tick. I want to understand the mechanics of each person. I want to throughly understand what drives a person to operate the way they do. People have told me I have a keen sense of being able to open a person up and see a soul that few are even aware of. From my perspective, I feel like I am only touching on the very tip of their existence.
I have come to realize that my disappointment in my husband’s lack of understanding the completeness of me is so similar to a game of let’s pretend. As a child, you make up games with your closest friends. When both parties understand a game that kids on the outside have no understanding of, the relationship feels magical. You and your friend are living a moment where there is a higher connection and a closeness develops that confirms why you are best friends. I want to be able to play that game with my husband. I want to feel more closely like it is us against the world and that we know secrets about each other to a depth that others could never conquer.
Don’t get me wrong, I have a terrific relationship and feel lucky to have the husband I do. He gets me like no one else. I just wish he had that extra creative gene that allows him to look deeper into what is around him in the same way I do.
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