That’s what we have, my husband and I. Like every other couple.
Most couples complain they have nothing to talk to each other after several years of marriage. According to some studies which I don’t know which (because my husband told it to me) average time of talking between spouses after years of marriage is 5 min per day.
In fact what can you say to the person you anyway see everyday: Did you throw out trash? Do the washing? (these questions are conflict-igniting so better not to ask) How was your work today? The same like yesterday/ They are idiots as usual, you know. Or worse ‘ Disaster (Uh oh, he’d not like to describe what loser he was at work, so better not to ask)
Ours is much more serious.
Because it’s the opposite.
We speak too much (In my humble opinion, ‘we’ here is the euphemism of ‘my husband’). So much of what we want to do that we don’t have the time to actually do it. Sleep late. Tired at work and so even more things to complain about in the evening. And sleep late again. etc.
And it has always been like this, since we were dating. We had no problem chatting until 4 or 5 in the morning. And we stopped then because we think human are suppose to sleep when it’s still dark, rather than we run out of things to say.
We never plan what to speak about. So I was surprise what on earth we were talking so much about. In some rare moments when we don’t come up with anything to say we simply enjoy sitting beside each other. Hopeless!
My duty every evening is to ‘help’ him to … clean his teeth. That means to go down to bathroom and be his audience while he’s brushing teeth. Because it’d be a waste of time to brush teeth in silence, isn’t it. One day he made a discovery that it took tooo much time to brush teeth with my ‘help’. But the next day he decided that he still wants my help anyway.
There was times when I ran to the toilet, and guess what, he ran after me. So we end up with him outside, me inside, chatting.
If he has to pack before travelling, he’d ask me to help him ‘mentally’ with packing, that is to sit there and chat with him while he packs. Of course it won’t hurt if i can hand him some clothes, and find his suitcase, and stuff the stuffs into the suitcase, and tape the suitcase, and chat with him all this time.
And of course, we even got upset that we speak too much so that we have no time left to do anything. So we woke up in middle of the night and quarrel about speaking too much. Yes, we really did it.
The funny thing is to others i.e. colleagues, acquaintances, he is very quiet. He seems to save all his talking to pour out at home. Or to his close friends. And of course the problem is all of his friends are extremely talkative, so that he almost lose his voice after hours of ‘listening’ to them. And he strongly concludes that men who speaks too much have ‘ko ko’. I agree totally.
But if i have to choose between the frying pan and the fire, maybe this is still the better option.