Forget about the recent riot of feminism - carry women bags, pay for them in a cafe, open their doors, protect them, take care of their problems.
Perhaps you will understand why this is all, and why you, when you come home for the thousandth time, and there everything is so cozy, your towels are different in color in the bathroom, a plate with dinner costs. And maybe when everything falls out of hand - work, business, friends, and she's your good, next to each and every day - kissing your hands, gliding at your feet and telling you that you are the best. And, maybe, when you see how much health and nerves she lost, wearing your child under the heart, or when after 12-16-20 hours of labor in pain, she will give you an heir.
Be kinder to her.
Stop jabbing her nerves with your pride, man's logic, strength of character. Call her. Especially when you quarreled, call her. If you only saw how bitterly she cries after you hung up, slammed the door. No, not so beautifully she cries, as in the films show, in the pillow and quietly. She sobs sobs, smearing tears over her ugly, swollen, red face. She can be heard on the street in the next apartment. She howls because of the pain you inflict on her. Call her, come back, come. Grab her in your arms and carry out of this grief, as if from a fire in a fire.
Do not offend her.
Do not cry, do not insult. You kill her with words. Her, kind, gentle, real. She becomes angry, cruel and vindictive, simply because you once threw her an evil "bitch!" In her face. You a thousand times regretted what was said, done, in the hearts thrown. But the moment has already passed. Some of it has already died, because you can not even imagine how unbearably painful it is to hear evil words from the most beloved and native. You will reconcile later, only she will not forget. You will not be reminded, but she will repeatedly scroll your words in your head, weep one, cut your heart into small pieces. And then you, dear men, will wonder why it has so much cynicism and indifference.
She sews it from the scars on her heart and knits. Scars, which left you there.
Be jealous of her.
Passionately, violently, passionately. Beat your fists in the walls, stamp your feet, crush everything around. Just never tell her that she is to blame for this. Do not blame her, do not blame her. Let it be better that the "goat that looked at it" will be wrong in everything. But it is for you to remain a saint. Believe me, if she wants to change,
she will change, but you will not know. But if you paid attention, she did it on purpose. That at least so you showed her that you are jealous, so you love, appreciate and are afraid to lose. So she doubted, in herself, in your feelings. Hence, he is afraid for your "we".
Tell her more about it. Say that she is your everything, that with her, as in paradise.
Let it be a cinematic pretend, let. Speak! If suddenly it does not become tomorrow. But it will never be. After all, we will all never be.
Life, because it is so short, so unpredictable, it may end in an instant. So, if it does not become tomorrow, you will never have a chance to tell her everything. Speak, dear ones, speak. Promise, do not spare promises, do not be afraid to deceive.
She is so happy when she hears promises, when she dreams, she hopes for something very good. She is so beautiful at this moment, such SHE ...
Did not she deserve it? Yes, even if you parted the day after tomorrow, is not it worth all these fifteen minutes, when you lay in an embrace and dreamed of your beautiful future! Worth it! Every second is worth it! Because so little in our lives these seconds.