Someone once told me, “idle hands are the devil’s playground.”
In my own life I’ve seen how those idle hands can steer me straight into endless scrolling and the,kind of trouble I never wanted. I keep wondering if I could redirect that restless energy this metaphorical need for something to occupy my attention toward the people who truly matter, especially my wife.
I remember being young and slipping into the same patterns early in my marriage. I got caught once, and the truth hit hard: I was chasing lust, not love.
When the temptation to drift as a husband rises, I try to anchor myself by writing a love note for her to find in the morning, or by letting the graffiti artist inside me sketch a flower and explain its meaning, hoping she can feel the intention behind each line.
I’ve realized that my weakness lies in seeking validation from other women; that’s what pulls me off course.
So my advice to myself and maybe to you is to pour that attention into my wife. To smother her with the desire I crave, to give her the energy I’m longing for. I’ve even considered stepping away from social media, at least for a while, until I can find my footing again. I want to date her again: walk together, sit on the patio, share music, a drink or a cigarette, and make her feel like the center of my universe. She chose me, and she deserves that love.