I always thought my marriage was perfectly fineuntil my best mate hit me with *that* question.
I got married young, swept up in grand romance. Wed been together four years before tying the knot, and wed weathered plenty together. Six years of cohabitation later, I still trust my husband completelyand myself, for that matter. Hes sweet, considerate, and thoughtful, always chipping in with chores. Now, hes hardly the bravest or burliest bloke out there, and lets just say he wont be gracing any magazine covers. But hes got this ridiculously kind soul, an ocean of optimism, and a stubborn belief in goodness that somehow powers us through lifes roughest patches.
Heres the snag, though: hes hopeless at making decisions, allergic to stepping out of his comfort zone, and shy enough to make a hermit look sociable. Six years in, and he hasnt budged an inch. Self-care? Not his forte. Health? Meh. Change? Terrifying. Hes nearly a decade older than me, and at twenty-six, Im buzzing with lifegreat job, my own car, steadily chipping away at the mortgage on our little terrace house. Then, over pints last week, my friend dropped the bombshell: *What do you even need him for?*
And just like that, my blissful ignorance crumbled. Now here I sit, nursing a cuppa and wondering *Alright, what* is *he actually for?*
