I have struggled a lot while Tom has been gone, 128 days to be exact, but who's counting. The past 128 days have been a whirlwind of getting married, taking on more work, moving and coming to terms that my husband is in prison. Living in such a small town it seems like everyone knows everyone, or at least they know something about them. While a lot of people know I am married, they read it in the newspaper, not many actually know he is in prison. And honestly, sometimes its hard to admit it when they say, "How's married life?" all I can say is, "Okay." They ask what he does, I want to say odd jobs every day. Some even ask if he "takes" care of me, referring to money, ya is $15 a month could get us by. Then replying, "Well he is in prison," the look, the gasp, and then the, "ohhh." Is actually almost priceless.

Sometimes I dread the look others times I just blurt it out, but today - today I realized what this is. After reading an article online from a fellow "prison wife" and the comments proceeding them left me feeling at a loss. While strangers were commenting her story and her article, it hurt me. It hurt me because that's what people say about me, and that's what bonds the "prison wives." A lot of people don't understand why we do it, what would make us want to do it, but it just makes me think what have they given up for love? What extent would they go for their husband or wife? And while I totally understand how some people may think our husband will offend again, what people don't understand it that change happens.

How many times have they lied, their husbands lied to them? Cheated? Stole?

So why can't my husband change when a cheater can, a liar can but my husband can't? Doesn't seem fair does it?

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