Between 4pm and 5pm I develop a case of clinical anticipation. I glance at the clock every 3 and a half minutes, I fidget and fiddle with anything in my reach. I get positively antsy. He only leaves work past 5. Suddenly the wait is stretched out and crawling.
I’m too dramatic to admit that the wait was not as long as I expected. I’m too full of hyperbole and pedanticism to say that it was only 25 minutes.
My favourite part of every week day is the Mini Reunion between myself and my husband: I’m running across our little cottage but obviously in my head I’m running across a field of sunflowers. (the edges of my brain drip different flavoured cheeses; I know) I’ve been married for just over a month? I suppose it’s perfectly natural that I get excited (understatement) when he gets home.
Today his left pinkie is broken (no, it wasn’t my fault) his smile is bright, and as always, his arms are wide open.
Later, we’re folded into chairs under a marble table, our plates emptying slowly, the eating process delayed due to whispered conversations. One paragraph at a time, I can feel every nerve ending in my body sewing itself to his. This is how we become closer, with words that cause shiny eyes and fast beating hearts. This is how we fall deeper in love.
I’ll be continuing a series of posts like these, trailing back to my engagement and how I came to meet him, there will be other themes involved, It’s mostly about how much my life has changed and how much I’ve learnt in the past few weeks.