Hubby and I fought early this morning.  Don’t ask me about what.  It was really over something petty.  I sent him a text message, to which he didn’t reply, and I ended up calling him.  I wanted to settle the issue over the phone but he just wouldn’t talk about it.  Don’t you just hate it when men don’t want to talk about a fight?  I just wanted him to tell me what he really feels and why he said the things he said.  I guess I’m asking for too much.  Now, I’m feeling bad, I can’t concentrate on my work, and I’ve turned off my phone.  I know this is silly.  I’m not even sure if he’s calling me or texting me.  Basta, I just feel like sulking. 

In some ways, Dean and I are so alike.  We both think we’re always right and we’re too stubborn to admit our mistakes.  I was trying to point out to him that he was at fault and he was insisting that he had done nothing wrong.  In the end, we resolved nothing.  And to think that the spat happened just after we said our morning prayers!  Aaarrrrgggghhh!! Truly, the devil does not rest. 

I don’t know how this day will end.  We’re supposed to meet for lunch and go to Mass because it’s Ash Wednesday.  I still feel bad and I want him to feel bad, too.  I want to keep on sulking and not turn on my phone.  Someone’s gotta give.  I don’t want it to be me.  But at the same time, I know I will have to reach out to him again.  I will have to understand and make compromises – much as I hate it.  You can’t stay mad forever at someone who shares your bed.