#lifewithanintrovert

On our way to the bakery my husband and I met one of our new neighbours (we just recently moved into our new apartment). She said hello, asked how our day was going and how we endured the lock down so I entered a little bit of small talk while my husband just smiled and nodded and displayed a growing fascination for the knots in his shoe laces.

After a few more minutes we continued on our way. The moment we were out of earshot he looked back, bend down to me and whispered…

HIM: "You can't do that."

ME (seriously confused as I had been nothing but polite): "What? What did I do?"

HIM: "Talk to our neighbours for so long."

ME: "… what? Why?"

HIM: "They might expect the same social interest from me. Just because I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. And then I would have to talk to them! Like... small talk." (He shudders.)

ME: "You're telling me not to talk to our neighbours because it might incite them to talk to you?"

HIM (happy that I understood introvert): "Yes! Or at least not so long. Keep their expectations loooow, you know?"

ME: "…"

While I have completely given up on getting my husband anyplace that could be infected by people, I still thought it safe to invite him to secluded, peopleless places: for example our own balcony... forgetting, that he dislikes warm, cozy, butterfly-singing-and-bees-fucking-all-over-the-place weather nearly as much as people. 

ME (sitting on the balcony and enjoying my first shorts-outside-day since last year, hearing the window to my husbands office opening): "Hey darling, wanna join me? The sun is lovely."

HIM: "I can't."

ME: "Why? Don't tell me you're still working? You should really take a br…"

HIM: "I have to watch my vitamin D levels."

ME: "...your what now?"

HIM: "My vitamin D levels!"

ME: "You haven't been in the sun for weeks! Your vitamin D levels are probably low as fuck."

HIM: "Which means by body isn't used to the sun anymore. Going outside could kill me. I’d probably explode!"

ME: "…"

After a long and hard week of socialization my husband needs to isolate for an hour or two in the weekend. Most of the times he does that while I am still asleep (or already at work), however, occasionally  I am fortunate enough to witness the very delicate and highly complicated retreat habits of the husbandus alivus greatus.

ME: (laying on the couch, snuggled into a warm blanket, barely able to blink through the steam of my hot coffee, hearing a noise and glancing over the arm rest)

Noises intensify. Suddenly the door to our bedroom is slightly ajar. No sighting of the mysterious creature yet. More noises. Then... a hush!

ME: (crouching deeper into my blanket and holding my breath)

HIM: (luring around the corner, sniffing for it's over talkative wify that might expect a 'good morning' or even a short conversation. He doesn't discover me, relaxes and tip-toes into the kitchen.)

Me: (listening to him sneaking through the kitchen, stalking his prey and… with a loud 'THUMP' nearly de-hinching the cabinet door behind which the nutella was sitting duck, unable to escape the chocolategreedy fangs of its hunter! The bread, knowing it will be found eventually, throws itself at his feet, crumbling for his mercy, but the husbandus alivus greatus does not know such a thing. THIS.IS.SURIVAL!)

HIM: (packed with nutella, bread, a dish, a knife and a whole bottle of milk and with a triumphant smile on his face waddles out of the kitchen, passes me without so much as a surprised blink and disappears in his office, shutting the door firmly behind him.)

… a second later I can hear him curse.

ME: "Everything alright?"

HIM (suspiciously): "Hon?... where are you?"

ME: "On the couch?"

HIM (even more suspiciously): "… since when?"

ME: "… since before you got up, snuck into the kitchen and brutally brought down that glass of nutella?”

HIM: “...”

ME: “...”

HIM: "... I could use some help."

ME: "What is it?"

HIM: "… I forgot my cup."

ME: "The usual way?"

HIM: "The usual way."

ME (laughing, getting up to grab a cup and placing it directly in front of the door, then retreating to the couch)

HIM: "…"

My husband has an internal talk-o-meter, which starts with whole sentences and ends with grumpy snort like noises that generally translate to: 'Whatever' or 'As long as I don't have to talk about it'.  It even includes a trigger warning a just before reaching the one-word-sentence-level, which says (very politely): "Yes... darling?"

As he knows that I don't like being growled or 'whatevered' at he has outsmarted his talk-o-meter by changing to non-verbal communication when reaching dangerously low levels.

HIM: *rolling over to me in his office chair*

ME (trying to concentrate on my story but noticing his presence): "Mh?"

HIM: *nudging me with his nose tip*

ME: (trying to ignore him)

HIM: *nudging me again with his nose tip*

ME: "What!" (turning around to face him)

HIM: *sticks a post it on my forehead and rolls back to his table*

ME (needing a moment to process what just happened): "What the f…"

I tear down the post it. It reads: 'I'm hungry!'

ME: "…"

Socializing comes to me as easy as breathing. To my husband it feels more like being stuck knee deep in hardened concrete while being slapped with a wrecking ball over and over. This means that even the hardest questions regarding being social seem easy enough to me – and leave him trapped between what he wants and what society expects of him. That makes him the bravest birthday guest I know!... also the funniest not-wanting-to-go-birthday-guest.

HIM (calling me three times in a row): "Help!"

ME (instantly panicking when hearing his voice): "What? What happened? Are you alright?!"

HIM: "My colleague… he…" Me (expecting the colleague to be laying in a puddle of his blood at my husbands feet oder worse): "Yeah! Yeah! What about him?"

HIM: "He invited me to his birthday!"

ME: "He… he what now?"

HIM: "He invited me. Me. To his birthday! Where there will be thousands of people I don't know! What am I supposed to do?"

ME (trying not to strangle him in my mind while taking a deep breath to calm my racing heart): "Well… ahm… if you don't feel comfortable going, you could just tell him you don't feel like it?" Him (honestly shocked about my complete lack of manners): "I can't do that! That would be just rude."

ME: "Well then… how about I accompany you? Would that make it easier?"

HIM (not only being polite, but also very correct): "No. That wouldn't be right. He invited me, not us."

ME: "Well… Hon… you could consider going. I'm sure you'll be fine."

HIM: "How about dying? Dying would be a solid reason not to go, wouldn't it?"

ME: "…"

Living with my husband not only gave me a whole new insight into non-verbal communication, but also on how to compromise for the sake of avoiding anything that resembles large groups of people… which, in numbers, means more than two. Making the shopping mall my husband's 3rd worst nightmare.

 HIM (trying to lace his shoes): "… shit."

ME:  "What?"

HIM (holding up two ends of a lace which clearly should have only one): "It tore." ME (frowning down at the 23 knots where the lace has torn before): "Again?" HIM (looking a little helpless): "Mhm." ME (with the slightest hint of hope to get him into the shoe shop because not only the lace has knots by now): "Sooo, perhaps it's time to buy…" HIM (having already tied the 24th knot): "Ha! Like new!"

ME: "…"

Having worked at Amazon's Customer Support for years there is absolutely no phone call I cannot make or take. However this experience also has me empathising with people who just don’t like making phone calls or are even afraid to do so, as it can be really hard not to miss a tone or misinterpret a word, a line or even the whole damn meaning of the call. Which is why I completely understand my husband's thorough reluctancy when there’s a call to be made. However... it does lead to really sweet moments of me completely drowning in his adorable puppy eyes.

HIM (innocently): "Darling, I need to make a doctor's appointment."

ME (sitting on the couch, resisting the urge to hit Ltd. Com. Ryker in his handsome face after he missed the opportunity to be honest with counselor Troi for the f**** 34452342734072534 time!): "Hmh." HIM (even more innocently): "So… I have to call him."

ME: "Mhm." HIM: "… but the phone is so far away…"

ME (slowly realizing that this is actually a dialog, not a monologue): "Huh?"

Looking up, seeing my husband standing in the door to his office looking at the phone… which somehow very conveniently ended up directly in front of my nose. He gives me the brightest of smiles… and realization hits me.

ME: "Oh. So by 'I have to make a doctor's appointment' you mean '--> I <-- have to make a doctor's appointment ' ."

HIM (smiling my heart away): "I love you?"

ME: "...”

After ten days of home office due to the Corona Virus Pandemic, my husband suddenly throws the following statement in my direction: 

HIM: "I've had about enough of home office!"

ME (genuinely surprised): "What? You're actually telling me you miss having your colleagues around? Wow. That's really…"

HIM: "… my office computer is so much better than my home computer."

ME: "…"