Monday, December 21, 2009

Till death do us part

Last night, Steve and I decided to go to bed early. I didn't have to grade papers, which is unusual late at night. The kids went down at a normal time. And since Steve wakes up around 5, going to bed early *should* be a standard. We were so proud of ourselves for crawling into bed around 9ish.

And then we stayed up until after 2 AM talking.

I have many things for which to be thankful this holiday season, but that might top my list. That this man I've known for 12 years and loved much of that time (after the indefinable transition from infatuation to love and then beyond) is still so fascinating to me that it's nearly impossible to end the conversations and go to sleep.

And today? I miss him like hell. I can't call him at work, so I just pine for him to come home so we can chat some more.

Pathetic, isn't it?

It seems the more we know each other, the more things explode in our conversations. We talked about where we'd be had we not met each other, what we dream for our little ones, our goals for the next year, blah blah blah. Laughed hysterically about stories about how much we screwed things up at various junctions along our path. My embarrassingly terrible first phone call to him. The turning point of our relationship, when he called down to me about the worm I just found. The ups and downs of figuring out how to form our relationship while I was over in Prague.

There is so.much.history there. And so much ahead of us. Only 12 years! That's such a small fragment of our time together. All the shared stories, hiccups of our immature sense of relationship finally finding stability, having our babies together.

If I think about the photo album of our lives, we're in this place that will always hold a nostalgia for us. The child-intense period of diapers and strollers and no sleep and our house always looking like a bomb went off in a toy store. It's not really a prime time for marriage. Dates are in short supply, long conversations have to be had in the middle of the night, and fatigue is the default in our lives. We had our first solo overnight only a month ago, and it had been FIVE years. Okay, five and a half. And yet, it's perfectly perfect. I love it.

I love being in this life chaos with the man who is utterly fascinating to me...when conversation with him means more than sleep. And that's saying something.

1 comment:

Rambling Rachel said...

This is a post to share with newlyweds and those about to embark on the journey of parenthood. It's hard but GOOD.

Five hours of talking? I can't imagine it and don't know why you didn't fall asleep after 1 hour. :)