In July we celebrated 18 years of marriage. A little delayed, but since time has no meaning and we're basically living in Groundhog Day, I wanted to share these thoughts from half my life with my other half, Bill.
I can feel his body against mine, his arm draped over my side, grazing my tummy. My tummy that held his five children. He twitches a bit. I can tell he’ll be asleep soon. This man. He’s my friend and husband, and I’ve known him for half my life. We have our days, days when we’re like two ships passing each other, never stopping to talk. A transaction of “who’s going to be home with the kids?” During those days or weeks, I actually begin to miss him! This is a good sign. Sometimes, he bothers me and I second-guess everything. Did I say something wrong? Did I make him mad? Normally, it has nothing to do with me. It’s work or house stress. We have a cycle to things.
I love when he finds me in the middle of the night. Our bed is so big, but we are cuddled in the middle. I love when he is too far on my side. I love when he wants to warm his feet on mine.
This man, the one I said yes to, he is my life. His children are mine. He loves me and gives good gifts. He gives me himself. He snuggles and feels comforted by my body pressed up toward his as we sleep.