I'm not mad enough to leave him. This is more of a pet peeve. A lot of the time I am happy in his company. A lot of the problem here I'd that I react to this out of all proportion to what is reasonable. I end up depressed.

Besides, he'll be leaving me soon enough. He's terminally ill. In May the doctors didn't think he had two months. I guess his cancer treatment is helping beyond what was hoped. He is in some kind of remission. He's pretty content and in no pain. Maybe his wellness reflects the care I take of him. But it won't last. Maybe he'll be here for Christmas. I think he will. He doesn't get depressed. He finds a funny sitcom on TV, relaxes and chuckles. His attitude is admirable.

Sometimes a person just wants to whine. I'm not asking for a solution. It's just a little thing. He can be so positive in the face of awful hard things. But he can get negative toward me about a pile of unopened mail on the table that annoys him.

He doesn't understand anything about depression . . . and I do mean nothing. When he drank heavily, I went to Al-Anon and bought books there to try and understand. Then, with every illness he's been through, I've researched to understand how best to help him. I'm pretty healthy. But I have chronically recurring episodes of depression. Never tried to seriously harm myself. Episodes don't last all that long, and I'm pretty chipper in between. I attend to my responsibilities. I always have. But I could use him being in my corner when I get into a tailspin. I deserve that. He doesn't try. He figures the best thing is to ignore my problem.

We're together a very long time. People have their blind spots, and basic traits don't change. I expect this is just how it will be. He never feels sorry for himself. Right now I've got all this self-pity. I better get supper ready.