Confessions of an Addict [41]: Lonely Reader


I’ve been lucky enough to have married the most indulgent husband in the world. He understands my passion in everything. All through the years that I’ve known him, he’s always been receptive of whatever it is that’s got me salivating. In some instances, he’s able to share my passion. Case in point, Kings of Leon. If the band is on tour, he finds an unchartered US city where they’re playing and would book us a jaunt for that particular weekend. I’ve also shared his passion for the San Diego Chargers. For a weekend in September or October, we fly to California to see them play.

But for the last few years, I’m all about the books. You all can attest to this. As much as I love him for doing everything he can to help me prosper in my latest obsession, there is one thing that I want us to love mutually, and that is reading. Don’t get me wrong, he does read. He’s just more interested in current events and sports rather than fiction. I asked him once what was the last book he read and he sheepishly replied that he couldn’t remember.

A few weeks ago, I tried to get him to read The Passage by Justin Cronin. I thought that if I can find something that he could perhaps like, it could possibly stir up his love of reading again. When he was a boy of 6, he’d read comics and the newspaper. He’d tell me that he used to save his allowance just to buy comics on the weekend; and that he used to split the newspaper with his dad. I suppose that’s where his preference for current events originated from, and that he now have a pretty good collection of comics to bestow on our son.

I share all my frustrations and gushing about whatever it was I’m reading with him. I tell him when a book is “shit” or when a book is the “best thing I’ve ever read”. Sometimes, I’ll  voice out my annoyance with a character who can’t seem to use their head in the book. Or he’ll acquiesce with me when a certain plot point doesn’t make sense. But even with all that, I still wish we’re able to debate about it all; when he can agree or disagree with because he read the same book. I think it would be nice to that. For someone to bounce ideas with.

One time, I just about ripped his clothes off because he mentioned reading The Glass Menagerie by Tennessee Williams. I think I said, oh my God, baby. You’re so hot right now. I mean seriously, is there anything hotter than a well-read man? I am keeping my hopes alive that someday soon, when we’re both retired and old, we’ll be sitting on our own rocking chairs and enjoying the silence in the company of our books.

 Is your partner/spouse a reader like you? 


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