Tomorrow we have been married for one whole month! I can hardly believe it. So far our marriage is progressing amazingly; we’ve not had a single argument and finally living together hasn’t brought any big changes or unexpected surprises.
Oh. Wait. That’s because we haven’t actually lived together, yet. My bad.
We spend several hours every day on the phone, and several hours instant messaging online, just like we used to do before we got hitched. This is totally easy! Why didn’t we do this earlier?
It’s been a wild ride these last couple of weeks, but now we’re about to live not only in the same town, but in the same house. A house we actually like! This is a small miracle in and of itself, but could we expect anything less from a relationship that it took 18 years to figure out?
Ever since this you have been referring to your future workshop as The Crate, and it cracks me up every time. This is a welcome reprieve all around from the days when I worried we’d have to cram into your house and stack the children in the closet. Now you shall have your Crate and Chickadee shall have her Casino and maybe Monkey and I will just jump in the pool and then run around the yard in circles.
There’s plenty to get through before we settle in to a routine, and more to come along the way. Fortunately, we’ve already survived several major hurdles: We can drive together without disharmony. We have done home improvement side-by-side with no casualties. And given the perfect justification to strangle one of my children, you handled things calmly. Also, you cook! And I’m pretty sure there are other proximity benefits which you would prefer I not discuss here.
I think this whole living together thing may have its perks.
This weekend as I sorted through years of detritus, I resisted throwing things away, at first. But then I got it into my head that every useless item chucked away and every other item packed was one step closer to you.
There was a long period of time there when I was sure I would never marry again, you know. And to be married and apart has been… weird. I don’t want to be apart anymore. ENOUGH WITH THE APART! But it’s almost over, and as much as I’ve complained about it sucking, it really didn’t.
I spent the whole month knowing that pretty soon we’ll be together. I spent the whole month reminding myself that years from now, a month apart will feel like a tiny blip on the map of our lives together. I spent it missing you and wishing for you but also knowing down to my toes that we’re in the right place (finally) and things are working out.
(There may have also been some shopping in there. It’s a little fuzzy, what with all of the pining I was doing. Yes. Pining makes it easier to shop for shoes, by the way. My feet have missed you terribly.)
So I guess what I’m trying to say is, happy monthiversary. Now get your ass up here and take me home.
P.S. My silverware is still superior. Your ability to make me laugh when I’m freaking out is much more valuable, though.