Wet your pants truth

Recently, my wife accused me of sharing only that which I wanted to share. Sculpting my own truth to only the people I wanted to. And she’s in part right. I say “in part” simply because I don’t want to admit that she might be 100% right.

So, I’m gonna give this a shot. Here’s “the emotional, blubber so hard that you wet your pants truth, [not] just the one tear down the cheek, feel sorry for me and hug me, truth.”

My marriage is in shambles. Has been for a while now. But it’s only been as of late that Steph or I were willing to admit it. Mostly my fault. I say mostly because marriage involves two. The number that keeps popping up in my head is 80-20. But I keep wanting to focus on her 20.

—

I just fired off an email to my associate pastor, one of my better friends, saying that I, we, desperately need help and how do we go about getting that.

I have always tried to be an honest up front person with other people. I can lie and hide to and from my wife til I’m blue in the face, but by golly, I’m gonna be real to other people. What a butthead thing. I enjoy it when people feel sorry for me, so I beg of you, don’t. I enjoy it when I get attention. So don’t give it to me because of this. Give me attention because you’re my friend, not because I’m screaming out for it.

so there you go. don’t know what i expect you to do with that. maybe pray that she gets spared from all of this.