After twenty-four hours of the silent treatment, Rae had had enough. “Oh, knock it off already,” she said. And so I did—a measure of progress and relative maturation on my part. In times past, it would have taken me days or longer to “knock it off”: to drop my resentment, and for my core to unfreeze, my face to relax, my voice to soften, and my head to turn willingly and with love toward my life partner. “My problem is that I am married to someone who understands me,” I have often grumbled, only partly in jest. Really, of course, my great blessing is to be married to someone with healthy
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