The Night Before Submission, I Read a Love Letter to My Husband in the Kitchen

For this year's Creative Awards, I am closing up shop with these three works. There is still a little time left until the submission deadline, but I probably won't write any more. As of now, I don't have any other subject matter that I feel like writing a long piece about. No, wait, do I? But it's not the right time. One must wait until the timing is ripe.

Usually, I go with a style of 'write it in a flash and publish it in a dash,' but when it comes to works intended for a contest, things are a bit different.

I want the people who appear in my work to read it before I submit it. If possible, I want them to support me happily. This is my secret rule. In the unlikely event that they think, 'Ugh, you shouldn't have written about this,' I would regret it forever. Even if they never see it, living with the thought of 'I wonder if that was okay...' is not good for my mental health.

Now, the story about the one-winged butterfly is mostly just me. It's just a story about fighting an invisible urge to urinate while in bed. So, if I'm okay with it, that's fine. Cleared.

The BIGBOY story was written in a full-on partnership with my mother, who is the main character. Unlike the butterfly piece, which was just about fighting the urge to urinate, this is a work where my mother stepped into territory she hadn't even talked about with close friends. Even after it was published, my mother kept expressing her complicated feelings, saying, 'Was it okay to put this out there? Did Grandma end up looking like the bad guy?' but she gave me the go-ahead to submit it. That is all thanks to you who read it.a full-on partnershipwith my mother

I showed my mother all the screenshots of the comments I received on the post. She was so happy. Because there were people who read it sincerely, my mother and I were able to tell each other, 'I'm glad we published it.' Thank you so much for that.

Now, about my latest work, 'The Honeymoon 15 Years After Marriage.' This is a story about my husband and me. Which means...? Yes. Of course, I need my husband to read it too.

My husband has read my note articles many times before. I thought, 'This should be an easy clear,' but I couldn't let my guard down. I have forced him to read them quite aggressively in the past. Although he sometimes praises me, there have been times when he's said heartless things like, '...Hmm. So?' which even caused a tense atmosphere between us. However, I must follow my policy and get prior consent. I need my husband to support me.

He is not that good at reading text. Even though he's an editor. He is the type of person who reads his favorite books over and over, but it's all about the timing. It's no good if he's been drinking, and it's no good if he's sleepy. Why? Because it's obvious that he won't be able to take it in properly, and he'll only be able to say, '...Hmm. So?' and get yelled at by me. He is very afraid of that.

(As an aside, he said he read the 5,500 characters of BIGBOY while feeling immense pressure not to get yelled at by me. As a result, his feedback was excellent. I was glowing.)

The preamble has become long. The day before publication, I gathered my courage and spoke to my husband.

'Hey, I wrote another piece to submit.'
'Oh, really?'
'It's about us, as a couple.'
'What did you write?'
'I want you to read it.'
'Ugh, I'm drinking right now.'

There it is. Why must you be drinking? Things like this have a timing. I am selfish. I want to submit it now, I want to submit it immediately, the time is ripe. Then... there is only one answer.

'Then, I'll read it.'
'Huh?'
'I'll read it for you.'
'Now?'
'I'll read it aloud.'

I cleared my throat with a 'hem.'

'I am sane.'

Am I really sane?

Laughing and saying 'What the heck,' my husband, who had no choice but to listen, lent his ears to my reading. 'Yeah, yeah... right, ...no doubt.' My husband listened with a drink in his hand, nodding along. While glancing at his expressions to gauge his reaction, I continued reading in a good mood. However. Seeing my husband's face as he nodded solemnly, as if he were reflecting on those days—no, this is just my own imagination—I suddenly felt a bit choked up.

Come to think of it, unlike my husband who expresses his affection in words clearly, I have rarely told him 'I like you' or 'I love you.' Given our usual relationship, it's just too embarrassing to do so now... As I read the part about our silly couple rituals, I thought, 'Wow, reading this all the way to the last word is super embarrassing.' Oh well, this is that kind of opportunity. It's the same as when I read a letter to my father and mother for the first time at my wedding, telling them 'I love you so much.' In our usual kitchen, I was reading a grand love letter to him.

"How was it?"
"It was all the truth."
"What are your thoughts?"
"Thank you very much."

Saying that wasn't really a critique, I successfully cleared this piece as well. Having received the go-ahead to publish, my challenge for this year's Creative Awards has safely come to an end. My family, who kindly supported me and said, "It's fine to submit it," gave me the push I needed. I would like to take this opportunity to express my gratitude.

Come to think of it, ever since that night I read it aloud,
my husband has been a little kinder than usual.