Some of you may be wondering, who read my blog last year, how I'm doing? Did I indeed win the battle for the heart and soul of my amazing wife and beat the little tin man for her devotion and adoration -- not to mention quality time spent? Or did I lose ground?
Well, I'm not winning. May have actually lost ground to that silver, square creep. I tried so hard. Flowers, frequent hugs and maximum empathy -- empathy even during trivial conversations that normally would have gone in one ear and out the other. While I manufactured over-the-top attention and interest. I absorbed every chat as if I couldn't wait for more. Hung on every word.
And attention? -- I lavished it. At every turn. I juiced up my love gauge and reached out and reached out and reached out. But the tin monster stayed by her side through it all. Mocking me. Showing me up. Always the one in her lap, gazing up at her as if she's a saint. Idealizing her and making her feel relaxed, excited and alive.
Oh, I had my moments. Love was not lost on my dear lover. But I'm afraid she squeezed me in. Between love fests with the rectangular guru. Yes, he's a guru. He surfs the web for her, offers her games, and connects her with her friends. Acts as if he invented Facebook.
I think one day I heard him talking. May be my paranoia, but he's a clever dude. Can't help wondering if he whispers to her, "Hold me -- we're one?"
He follows her everywhere. Except maybe the shower. I'm sure there will be a version of him someday -- the waterproof one -- where he sneaks his way into her private time, soaking up the warm water, sparkling as beads of water drip down his glass face. Offering her games and attention as she rests in the tub, oblivious to time and space. After all, she has warm water and sneaky square man with her.
He has so many faces like love faces, looks of excitement, coy, winsome and demure stares as she pokes at him with her finger. Her love finger I believe. He loves her finger. It's his love language.
Do I sound jealous? You bet. But I have to pretend -- pretend he's part of the family. Part of the marriage. He goes to bed with us at night. I can never get away.
So I continue to compete. I have my stealthy ways. I occasionally hide him under the pillows and have done everything but throw him in the garbage. But he'd find a way out. I swear sometimes he has legs.
I continue to watch and wait. To see if I can gain ground, to get her to hold me like she does the little, mechanical freak. Even though I'm often invisible, I'm continuing to fight back. I can't lose any more points -- or I may end up giving up and resigning myself to the crumbs off the table. I know she loves me, but I'm not so sure I have a hold on her like that cold, thin pervert.
But here's my fighting plan. My "Art of War." I have a few tricks up my sleeve. And I'm determined to win. I plan to win. I'm going to win. Here goes:
1. Last year, I planned to find ways every day to get her attention. That told her I love her. Hugs and touch that showed her I'm thinking of her and loving her in action. This year? I will ramp up the physical stuff. Hold her even more. Because I've got arms. Like I said last year, see if you can compete with that Mr. silver god. And just to remind you, you don't have any arms. Ha ha ha!!!
2. Last year, I committed to asking her how she's doing. And I listened well. No matter what she said -- including the minor chatting over nothing. Try chatting thin man. Oh yes, you can't really talk can you. Forgot. Ha ha ha!
3. Last year, I did all kinds of things to affirm her. I called her my lover, best friend, soul mate. I even told her at length why she's my best friend. But when I finished, I noticed her purse and his puny head popping out the top. He heard everything. He learns from what I do. He needs to stay home when we go on dates. With the dog!
4. Last year I reminded myself of the strengths I have to give her. Such as my ability to reach out and love, give and even forgive. My desire to give her the best life a man can, with actions that tell her she's on my mind and in my heart. I told her she's the love of my life, hoping to plant a seed of hope -- that she might give up I-Pad-god-man and only think of me. But it's the creepy tin man who rides by her side, like a secret service agent ready to take a bullet for her. He's always there. Always. I keep hoping for the bullet.
5. And finally, last year, I made her feel like a princess in and out of the bedroom. I made her a priority in my schedule. I did extra handholding. Took her out on romantic "happy hour" dates. I opened the car door when possible, held her hand into the restaurant and pulled out her chair for her when she went to sat down. I turned up the romantic juice -- never demanding, always thoughtful -- as best I could. But he was always watching in the background -- ever perky and ready for the finger jabs and constant attention to his hardened, cold face. Tricky little b________________ -- bugger. Whether by her side or plugged into the wall for recharging, he watches for his turn. He wants to be her lover - really. He just waits for some kind of "lover" app that would rid him of me. God help me -- literally -- if such an app comes on the market.
So what will I do different this year? I'll continue this year to make her feel like the prettiest woman in the world. Because she is. I'll continue to make note of her uniqueness and support her in her hobbies and in those experiences that bring her joy in life. She has a wonderful mind and I'll continue to explore her thoughts and insights into the day-to-day events and what she's hoping for the future.
And I'll touch and hold her out of love and desire to make her feel special. You have no arms tin head. So back off.
I'll seduce her into my life with care and attention -- the kind of love a man should bring into his woman's life -- his best friend and lover. I'll be specific about that. I'll think up ways to surprise her with affirmations and interesting ways to say, "I love you" and "You're the only girl for me."
I hope to prevail in 2015. The electronic monster, clever as he may be, will take a back seat to the kind of fertile energy and charisma I am ramping up. Watch out tin man. Step aside square head putz. You're just a bundle of pre-programmed zeros and ones -- nothing really unique about you. I've only begun to fight. I'm stepping up glass face. Watch me!
I will prevail.