i keep composing and re-composing this post in my head and i'm not quite sure how to get it down because i'm not sure exactly what to say. i suppose it has mainly to do with me not being as uptight as i used to be, me being surprised that i still have the capacity to fall for somebody, me initially underestimating d (and my own ability to trust again), and me suddenly feeling like i am part of this almost-family. which is to say it is about a whole bunch of things.
in the last month or so d and i (and the three kids) have come into this sort of comfortable routine. mondays he plays racquetball after work, wednesdays we usually have a date, fridays we take the three kids out to dinner, sunday i make pasta and a salad... it's very effortless and simple. two mornings ago he served me coco puffs in bed before he left for work. we slurped and crunched and chatted while the kids slept. last night he sat with lorenzo on his futon so that i could take a shower. i came back and found him feeding mr. baby brie and crackers in bed. he tucks them in. it's not convential romance. there isn't excessive complimenting or pda-ing or that miriad of things that fades (quickly) in a new romance. he brought his last load of boxers down from his place and said he didn't want to 'freak me out' by bringing the last of his nice shirts. somehow, i'm not freaked out.
but i'm struggling because i have this profound and overwhelming urge (akin to that womb-vomiting feeling i had when i was giving birth to lorenzo, bear with me people) to express my gratitude to him. thank you. thank you for changing the course of my life. thank you for these moments and being someone who doesn't make me feel the need to plan or question. thank you for loving my children and letting me love yours. thank you (i hope) for understanding these things without me having to wonder what the hell it is you see in me. and on and on.
in the last month or so d and i (and the three kids) have come into this sort of comfortable routine. mondays he plays racquetball after work, wednesdays we usually have a date, fridays we take the three kids out to dinner, sunday i make pasta and a salad... it's very effortless and simple. two mornings ago he served me coco puffs in bed before he left for work. we slurped and crunched and chatted while the kids slept. last night he sat with lorenzo on his futon so that i could take a shower. i came back and found him feeding mr. baby brie and crackers in bed. he tucks them in. it's not convential romance. there isn't excessive complimenting or pda-ing or that miriad of things that fades (quickly) in a new romance. he brought his last load of boxers down from his place and said he didn't want to 'freak me out' by bringing the last of his nice shirts. somehow, i'm not freaked out.
but i'm struggling because i have this profound and overwhelming urge (akin to that womb-vomiting feeling i had when i was giving birth to lorenzo, bear with me people) to express my gratitude to him. thank you. thank you for changing the course of my life. thank you for these moments and being someone who doesn't make me feel the need to plan or question. thank you for loving my children and letting me love yours. thank you (i hope) for understanding these things without me having to wonder what the hell it is you see in me. and on and on.