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I have an abundance of passion for you, which you dismiss with disdain. You would rather that abundance not exist since you can't bring to bare the same level or degree. You'd rather I focus my attention elsewhere and yet at the same time NOT focus my attention elsewhere and focus solely on you. I'm always "on" and that frustrates you to no end. Even now in my diminished capacity where I've toned it WAY DOWN, the regular outburst of flirtation are still mostly just annoyances in your busy schedule. Yet I love you and have more passion for you with each day. I love the corners of your lips and the creases of your eyes and the gray interspersed in your hair. I love your giggle and your huff and could not bare to be without it. I love your determination and your growth each day. I love your honesty and your whit.

I feel like I have two people who love me and two that I love in return. One who can claim me but has no passion for me. One who has passion for me but cannot claim me. One who has no need for me but will fight for me and one who has all the need but no fight.

If I could spill this passion I have for you from your overflowing cup and fill but a bit of hers I would. But she keeps her hand firmly over the cup. She will have none if it risks what's in your cup. Instead she chooses to disconnect. First from you to spare the possibility that you will see through her, see her raw emotions and be hurt by them. Then she withdraws from me, to remove the emotions, to reaffirm her commitment to you.

Her love for us is unrivaled in this world. Sacrificing her own happiness for our own, when she has so little happiness to claim. I can't help but feel foul for each time I'm angry with her for not doing as I would have her do or as you would choose for her. We are such hard friends to please, at once loving and forgiving and faithful and then so quick to judge and rebuke and quit.

I wish I could make up a fairy tale ending to this all. She flees the evil villain for the safety and sanctity of the loving arms of a princess and her prince and they all lived happily ever after. Sadly her mind isn't ready for that scenario, she can't absorb that the two people she loves so fiercely, both love her back in equal measure. I grow frustrated with the closeness of it. I grow angry with the pretend barriers and false hurdles and the minefield of out of bounds discussion, lies, omissions, touches, glances, and wish to speed things along to their inevitable end. So I sit and pine for what could be but may never be. I pine for a conversation that can't be had, a kiss that can't be held, a life that cannot begin.

My solace is that I have you. Every night, tucked safely beside me, your scrunched up face that I love so dearly and so tenderly. I have you and that gets me through to the next day. Whether my heart aches or doesn't, I know that I still have something here I'm working towards. I still have you and that's a good thing. She still has you and that's a good thing. We are both richer with you in our lives and with you as the one we love. Each day. Forever.

I love you, wife.

Your husband