Sensitive husband? In your dreams!

Although in the real world I might have done nothing wrong, the fact that my wife had had a dream that I did makes it immaterial.

I needed to apologise to her for having been so awful to her. In her dream.

This is how the conversation went. “I had such a terrible night.” She said. “Oy!” I respond. “What happened?” “I dreamed we had such a fight, and I couldn’t believe the terrible things you said.” She’s clearly disturbed by the memory of it all. And in recalling it is becoming even more upset and angry with me. “Wait!” I say. “You do know it was a dream. It didn’t happen.” I’m now becoming a bit hysterical as I can see no way to defend myself and can also see the way this conversation is going. It’s like watching a train crash in slow motion with no way to stop it from happening. “I’m not demented!” She responds, matching my tone and anxiety, “I know that. But it was exactly something you could have said.”

And so, of course, I apologised. And, of course, I promised never to do what it was that I did again. And being of kind heart, she graciously accepted my apology even though deep down she knew that as much as I meant it when I said it, there’s a great likelihood that I’ll do exactly what I said I wouldn’t again.

We went to a wedding a few weeks ago. The couple were young and in love and radiated the optimism only found at weddings. The groom, a lovely young guy, in addressing his shiny new bride thanked her for (already) teaching him to be “sensitive and vulnerable”. That she had achieved this in the few months of their courtship and engagement is remarkable. But I did wonder out loud what she was going to do with the next 50 years, being the overachiever that she clearly is.

When I posed this question to my wife, she rolled her eyes and suggested that maybe I could learn a thing or two from the couple. Fair comment, considering that she has been giving me sensitivity and vulnerability training for more than 30 years now – and isn’t convinced she has succeeded with either.

There’s a fantastic scene in the movie White Men Can’t Jump. Woody Harrelson and Rosie Perez are in bed together; she’s studying for Jeopardy!, and he’s just lying around. She turns to him and says, “Honey, I’m thirsty,” so he gets up, walks to the kitchen sink, fills up a glass of water, comes back, lies down in bed, and hands her the glass of water. She takes the glass of water, looks at it, and tosses it in his face. He says, “What the hell, what did I do wrong?” and she says, “Honey, I said I was thirsty. I didn’t want a glass of water. I wanted empathy. I wanted you to say I know what it’s like to be thirsty.”

It’s apparent that although men and women seem to be of the same species, the reality is that they aren’t. And that no matter how long they might be married, it’s the differences that guarantee that life isn’t boring. Even if they dream otherwise.