Honesty, at last.

I am unhappy to say that he has been smoking a bit for the past month. I am very happy to say that he finally said something. I can credit a lot of this to his mom.

At breakfast this morning, I asked his parents what I should do. He wasn't with us because he was feeling sick and wanted to sleep in longer. By the end of breakfast, we concluded that his mom would mention something. She would be the "bad mom" so I could be the "good mom." LoL.

Well, it seems to have worked.

When his dad went to go drop off his mom at work, I took that opportunity to bring up yesterday again. There was no drama. Just talked calmly. And he eventually apologized for lying to me.

It wasn't a surprise to me that it turned out I was right in my suspicion. I didn't get angry. I just hugged him and reminded him that I love him. And of course, I continued to remind him that he needs to be honest with me, because it's much better for me to be upset about a truth than about a lie.

Even though I am sad that the smoking has started again, I feel a weight lifted. I am more happy about his honesty than anything else. It's like I finally feel like he loves me. It's a strange way to say it, but it's true. I feel like he finally loves me enough and trusts me enough to be honest with me, to stop hiding from me. And in turn, I feel like I can trust him a little bit more.

This is a huge breakthrough in our relationship, from my standpoint. Instead of possibly protecting his pride, reputation, or my feelings.... instead of getting that high from "getting away with things".... it's like he's finally taken that step to really rebuild the integrity in our relationship. And I hope this will continue. I anticipate setbacks. What helps is that I know (and he knows) that he can't bullshit me. But we're headed in the right direction now. Progress has been made. That first crucial step has been taken.

I can say nothing more than that God has answered my prayers, and I am elated at what has just happened today. I love my husband so much. I want to be the wife that can support him and continue to be here for him as we try to overcome this (again, but hopefully in a better way this time).

Suspicion and Paranoia

I knew there was another thing I hated about California. I suspectYubo of more things down in Cali than up in Washington.

I suppose it's because I believe in how easy it is for old habits to return when you're back in the place where that habit was prominent.

Of course, in this case, I'm talking about Yubo's smoking.

He's gone outside at random times for no good reasons. He spends mire time than is needed when he goes outside for something.

The kicker to my suspicion happened yesterday.

We've been staying with his parents. They recruited our help to remodel an upstairs bedroom and turn it into a library (such an awesome idea). The plan was to start painting yesterday morning. I was puttering around, waiting for someone to pour me paint so I could
start painting the edges -- I wasn't dressed for painting and wanted to minimize the chances of getting paint on myself.

Yubo had gone outside and closed the door. Unusual in this household when it's good weather. When it was taking him so long, I went out.

He was standing behind the last car in the driveway. I watches his shadow briefly. His hand went to his mouth, then back down. Perfect timing and look if he were smoking (it wasn't like he wiped something off his face). This happened twice before I called out. As soon as I did, his shadow squatted down and he immediately opened the trunk and made like he was looking for something.

The air smelled faintly of smoke. I commented on it, and he said he thought that was weird too. He walked to to side of the car as I approached the back. He maintained a good distance from me.

We basked is the sun momentarily. I had forgotten what I came out to ask him.

There was a single flat cigarette butt right where he was standing.

I finally remembered -- I wanted to know where the rollers were to paint. He said he was just looking for them.

Then I told him my suspicion. Of course, he denied it. I asked if I could smell his breath. He complained that he had morning breath, which is easy for him to try to hide behind because he knows I hate morning breath. It's why I don't kiss him until after he brushes his teeth. But he should have known that I knew he still had morning breath, yet was still asking to smell because of my suspicion.

His breath smelled of smoke. Not strongly, but I've been a little sick.

I told him what I saw with his shadow. He didn't say anything. I told him I love him, and that I didn't want him hiding anything from me, especially if it was him smoking again. And I walked back into the house.

He hasn't said anything since, but has looked at me like he wants to say something -- or maybe I'm just projecting.

It's been very stressful for him lately at work. And this vacation has been far from a vacation with this remodeling project. It wouldn't surprise me if he turned to cigarettes again, especially down here in Cali.

It's been so prominent in my mind that I dreamt about it last night -- of how he wouldn't say anything to me.

I want him to either confess, if there is anything to confess, or reassure me that he isn't lying to me. He doesn't really do anything to help me trust him (and you guys know what an issue this has been for us). And I've been trying my best to just believe in him, but that part of me that was so devastated and betrayed those years ago still lingers.

But I say it shouldn't be all on me to try to trust him again. I really need him to do his part in being honest with me, not setting off my triggers (all of which he clearly knows), and reassuring me -- because I'm really doing as much as I can on my own and in prayer.

Considering Sleeping Separately.

First off: No. Nothing is wrong.

I was watching Oprah, and they were talking about and polling the audience about what's normal. There was a couple happily married for 9 years, sleeping in separate bedrooms (one upstairs, one downstairs) for 8 years. Of course, the majority of the audience, along with Dr. Phil, thought that was not normal at all. Dr. Phil even said he was concerned for them, even if it might be working out well for them.

I've been thinking about sleeping separately from Yubo for a while. I thought about it most during a time when I was dealing with insomnia. I wasn't getting to bed until Yubo was getting out. I felt that during that time, although I was very frustrated with my insomnia, I was sleeping better without him in bed.

Now, the strange thing about this is at night, when not necessarily dealing with insomnia, I can't sleep without him. When he's out working late, I will more likely than not stay up until he comes home. Or if I manage to fall asleep, I wake up nearly every hour until he's home. I'm constantly concerned about when he's going to be home, scared if something might have happened (especially if he doesn't respond to any call or text), or my mind gets overactive and I scare myself.

But when he leaves for work, I seem to be more at ease being home alone. Also, sleeping when it's light out helps me feel safe being alone (I know that's not true, but it's how I feel). And I'm not so worried with Yubo being out because he's supposed to be.

Still, I generally seem to sleep better without Yubo in bed. Or when we had our other couches, I was more comfortable sleeping on the couch for a while.

The other part of this is Yubo's snoring and thrashing. The snoring isn't too horrible. I shared a room with my sister for years, so it was something I mostly became able to handle. However, I "joke" a lot about building some sort of barrier to keep him on his side. There have been many instances of waking up to nearly being elbowed in the face. He's actually hit me sometimes, or had his foot or leg completely on my side, so I'd usually be scrunched up and nearly falling off the bed sometimes.

Ah... and the final thing is blankets. We don't share a blanket. He has his one or two, and I have my one or two. It's nice to hog my own blankets and not be concerned about him. HOWEVER, he will often get overheated as he sleeps, or simply thrash around as usual, and it's a 50-50 chance that the blanket(s) will end up on the floor or on me. It's another way that he crowds my sleep space.

We've thought about getting two twin-full sized beds and keeping them separate, pushing them together if we're feeling lovey-dovey (which is rare for us, but not really a bad thing). I don't think I'd be too keen on having my own room, so just separate beds would be sufficient for me.

Ah... what a luxury this would be though. Too bad we can't afford it. :P