My husband’s favorite ice cream is vanilla.
As luck would have it, that’s the very flavor that I have. I willingly serve it and it makes me happy to give it away. It brings me joy to see my husband experience such pleasure.
It’s no wonder he thinks there is nothing wrong with our marriage. He’s got a belly full of creamy vanilla ice cream.
On the flip side, my favorite is strawberry. The problem is that my husband only has chocolate and not only is that the only flavor he stocks, he is unwilling to stock anything else. It doesn’t matter that I want strawberry; he either can’t, or won’t, stock it. Either way, I’m left craving strawberry ice cream.
Don’t get me wrong, he serves a beautiful chocolate ice cream and sometimes it really hits the spot and I am satisfied. But, at the core of my being, I crave strawberry ice cream. The desire always returns and often with a fierce intensity.
I am sad.
It seems a little more understandable that he feels bad. He continues to offer the best he’s got but I keep asking for something different.
I’m starting to get a sense that in continuing to ask for something that someone can’t provide, I’m hurting us both.
He can never please me. And I can never be fully pleased.
I wish I could be happy with chocolate ice cream. I really do. I wish I didn’t want something different. But, the truth is I do and I can no longer ignore it.
I can no longer ignore the true essence that flows through me.
It’s neither right nor wrong. It just is.
Continuously returning to the chocolate ice cream vendor is never going to net me strawberry ice cream. This I now know.