Descriptive Essay About My Wife

What is a happy marriage? All little girls dream of kissing a frog and ending up in a fairy tale romance with a handsome prince. Fairy tales such as The Frog Prince, Snow White and Cinderella embedded in our our minds a belief that life is full of magic. Subconsciously, the little girl in your wife dreams of a handsome prince to lead her through life 's journey. However she has become disenchanted because you, her husband, have not lived up to expectations and failed to fulfill the princely role. When you got married, your wife wished to live happily ever after.

"Wait... what?" He asked, walking over to them. "Are you guys being serious?" He asked, looking around the room. "Of course we are! It's time for you to relax, old man!" She chuckled, walking over to him and hugging him. "Also, this is for you." She said, handing him the card. He read it, smiling slightly. "I love you too, especially since you threw me this party... you really didn't have to do this." He said softly, leaning down and kissing her forehead. "Aww, don't worry, it was a piece of

My wife and I have differing opinions regarding the importance of housework. For me, a clean home constitutes feelings of peace, happiness, and a clear mind. My wife on the other hand, feels that organization and cleanliness of the home are not essential to happiness within the home, but that the moments shared within the home create happiness. These personal schemas are important to consider in the upcoming interaction, as our dog has just given birth to a litter of puppies. This afternoon I was feeling overwhelmed. My wife spent the better part of the day sleeping, after a long shift. This left me with dishes, laundry, housework, and puppies to attend to. I felt like I was bearing more of the load in our relationship

The relationship chosen for this assignment in one that involves my wife and I. Both of us have been married for over five years and we have been together for a total of seven years. I met my wife through my best friend as she was his front door neighbor and we have also seen each other but never spoke until one day I just stopped her in front of her house and asked her for her name and the rest well is history. Our relationship began as a friendship as we would go out to nightclubs, watch movies, and just hang out in the front porch talking until literally the sun came up the following day it was something not to many get to do and I was lucky I would

As we stood there being praised for our accomplishments, I locked eyes with my wife, neither of us knowing what the reaction would be to being reunited, there was a sense of fear and confusion. What would happen once reunited? Do I embrace her, do I hug my kids and ignore she was even there? As I approached my family I became filled with a feeling that I could not ignore. Love, that was the feeling, regardless of all the drama and heartache that was endured, we embraced. Addressing the situation face to face could now be a priority. Counseling was the first step in the healing process, though I still had doubts, I loved her and was willing to try anything to identify if the marriage was worth saving. During these sessions and continued therapy, we discovered a potential cause for her actions. My wife was with diagnosed Borderline personality disorder, this disorder, though not an excuse, at least it provided an understanding of what she was going through when I was

She has been examining this ratty piece of paper with scribbles on it for almost a month now. Every time I go into her chamber to clean she is mulling over that thing and she never puts it down. What I don’t understand is why she won’t invite the drama. Normally she will be the source of any hilarity for us slaves. She almost always has some stupid dilemma that makes us all giggle. Like last year she got into a bickering match with her best friend because she saw her friend having tea with someone else. It was so dumb I could barely get away fast enough before I burst my guts. Now I’m beginning to get suspicious. I know that all these people are coming for Mister Adkinson’s birthday but even if she wants it to go smoothly, she still likes to throw in some

My wife whom I have been married to for 12 plus years has been important part of my success. Prior to my wife I was married twice in my twenties. I rushed into relationships thinking that would allow me to be the head. I have a plan for my life and where I wanted my family to be a certain amount of time. I soon realize that woman I attracted were career women and the thought of staying home and not being productive in the workforce was not on their radar. From that point those relationships failed miserably. My current wife thought about being a homemaker and I was excited about that and felt comfortable with her and where we were going as far as a family. However, after marriage she changed gears and decided not to do that. It caused must stress. We have worked through difficult moments and invested into our careers together. I worked extra jobs and paid her tuition as she earned two Master degrees in Administrations and received a promotion into administration.

Decemeber 25th, 2016: A day filled with overly excited children and stressed out parents who are preparing for the events to come that day. After eagerly ripping through tons of wrapping paper that early morning, my family and I started our journey to the little town of Sobieski. The town may be extremely small and only have a population of less than two hundred people, but it is one of the most significant cities in my life. We soon arrived at my second home, my grandparent’s house, in the next half an hour.

You’ve always loved coming to to the carnival when you were just a bundle of tantrums, why a sudden change?” “Well it’s just that I’m not very excited with the whole mourning and sorrow thing, I’d rather be out actually having fun” Those last words really just slipped out of my mouth sarcastically and made me regret them when I saw her hurt eyes turn to demanding ones. “You think this is holiday was made to be for entertainment? No, you shouldn’t because it’s not just some kind of party where you go eat, drink, and cry it is an important time to remember those who have fought for our lives and happiness and return in reincarnation to help us fulfill our greatest dreams and--- I Interrupted her by saying “Well maybe I don’t want to be part of this, maybe I can’t stand you always treating me like a baby, I’m going to that party whether you like it or

I failed to express my feelings. I could have said, “I was disappointed when you didn’t show up for our dinner engagement and thought something bad may have happened to you. What caused you not to show up?”

The first thing I have ever felt was a gust of warm air hitting my fur and wet tongue tracing my face which knocked me over I couldn’t see who was there but there were other soft warm bodies around me I was curled up by the large warm body curled protectively around me and the others which I knew from the start she was my mother I didn’t know her by name but I knew her by scent. An unmistaken smell of forest flowers blended with earth “How are you doing Willow” a voice called out echoing around the space the voice itself was deep but it was gentle there was a proud aura about him “I'm doing fine Shadowfang just a bit worn out” my mother responded her voice matching her exhausted breathing

I was five years old, standing in an airport waiting for my grandfather when I realized that my sister and I were very similar. A total stranger changed the way I looked at my sister and myself. Until this very minute, a minute that changed my outlook, I could not fathom at the time how my sister and I could in any way be similar, due to the differences in our personalities and how we reacted differently to a number of situations. We could both be a gadfly to each other and our parents. My sister enjoyed teasing me and being annoying, working me into a rage, while I enjoyed being silent and reading anything I could get my hands on. She enjoyed playing outside, while inside was where I felt I belonged. She was part of the popular group, and I enjoyed the company of plebeians. These were some of the things different between us that I remember of that time. There were physical similarities and my sister and I could be mistaken for twins.. Sure, we looked alike, blond hair, and blue eyes like our dad. We were tall and both active. We resembled each other, certainly, but in my mind, until we met the stranger and uttered a few words that changed my outlook, we could not be more different.

Aida is tall and thin, smaller busted and hipped than most women, but still has beautiful curves for her body. You could describe her as having legs that reach her neck. My wife is beautiful, long, thick auburn hair and smoky, hazel eyes. A dazzling smile and youthful personality combine to belie her true age—most people mistake her for twenty-five instead of thirty-five. Jenny is younger by several years, and fuller figured. Her C-cups swayed seductively while her hands hovered anxiously waiting to strip the panties from her rounded hips. Jenny has alabaster skin, medium length, curly black hair. Long lashes that could change her appearance from innocent to wicked accentuated the perfect heart-shaped face. Aida had often compared her to a Greek goddess.

Sisters. Sisters, the people who think it's really funny to get you in trouble. At least that's what my sisters like. I'm Sarah Oakland and my sister is named Claudia. She's the one who never gets in trouble and the one that gets whatever she wants. It's pretty unfair actually, before she was born my parents would want to play with me everyday and now they spend a lot more time with her. I don't get it. Anyway, here's what my life is like now…

I see her. My beautiful wife. Her stunning smile plastered on her face, her eyes turning soft as they meet my gaze. I felt a smile appear on my face as warmth spread all over my body. “Hullo darling” she speaks in her angelic voice, “Hullo darling” I reply as she takes my coat. She acted as if she was all a man could ask for. Except for the fact that she was using me. Her sister had told me days prior, she was only using me for my money. She felt no love for me, the only love she had was for the money and attention I gave her. I wouldn’t call myself rich, I would describe myself more as generous. I dedicated half of my paycheck to her. I got her new shoes every month, any clothing items she wanted and perfumes that were definitely too much. I used to enjoy doing it. When I brought her gifts, she would smile and it would remind me of what I live for. Now that I know the truth, I feel broken. The love of my life is using me and I can’t do anything about it. She places a glass of whisky on the wooden table in front of my face. She didn’t love me. It was all I could think about. I was being used for what I had to offer, not for what I was. Anger seeped into my veins. And after all this, she still has the audacity to speak to me.