mini-vacation

While we were away:

We ate at a fifties diner in Golden and sat by the Jukebox but we didn’t want to scare the elderly that populated the place so he squirmed at the possibility that when I put coins in the machine, I may pick “My Humps”. Drank a cold pint and some cutlets with mashed potatoes and mixed veggies, reminded me of Grandma’s sides.

We had several leisurely mornings, devouring both newspapers for the day, drinking copious amounts of coffee and eating what he proclaimed as breakfast made by the woman who makes the best breakfasts ever.

We declared eleven am as cocktail hour and drank too many beermosas rendering us quite sauced in the afternoons which we spent playing scrabble, crib, and golf.

We played golf with a lovely 85 year old named Basil, who beat the pants off of us and most likely highlighted our afternoon condition.

We spent an afternoon with my grandparents, sat on the patio and then the boys retired to play an excessive amount of pool while the girls gabbed until dusk.

We cuddled, a lot.

We spent the last afternoon tanning on the driveway and moaning over our luck that the last day was the only sunny day.

We left; relaxed, sunburned, and happy.

honeymoon's over?

I think we’re past the honeymoon stage. If I measure our time together using what we deemed to be our ‘anniversary’- the day we first met- May 31 would have been our 7 month ‘anniversary’. Of course I don’t believe in this stuff, but his words are coming back to haunt me.

“Are we at six months already? I start to act like an asshole after that,” he said jokingly.

I laughed then, thinking the blissful dome of happy we had created couldn’t be penetrated by timelines. It comes a month late, so maybe they don’t, but maybe we’re past what they call – ‘the honeymoon phase’. I imagine this as having a soundtrack of chirping birds and tasting so sweet making everything look rosy and new. And at the time, I didn’t realize it. But now we’ve hit a bump and at the bottom of it, I can still see and hear and smell that phase, but I can’t reach it.

I know it’s only a bump, but it feels a little like a precarious balancing act. Things could go so wrong. It’s kind of scary and reminds me of why I never really committed before this. I constantly have a knot in my stomach. But this time, I’m standing up for myself and not backing down—and if it means he wants to leave me; he doesn’t really love me as much as he says, ‘cause he would stay. I don’t want him to prostrate with his apologies, but I like when he at least acknowledges the fault or the bad. This time our fight was a little different- him more defensive, me more frustrated.

And I don’t feel it was resolved – but it’s only been one day. Obviously I’m a newbie at couples fighting.

So here’s hoping we just tripped and fell and need some time to brush ourselves off and walk off into the sunset with the chirping birds and rosy view and sweet taste in our mouths.