Not from the pomegranate martinis, however potent and festive, but from him.
There is something so incredibly sexy and intoxicating about a man who listens. Actually listens. My husband does. It might be why I fell in love with him. He was the first man in the long string of men I dated who listened whole heartedly.
Today came with a few hours to ourselves. His parents came to play with the kids, and we went out for lunch and a bit of stocking stuffer shopping. We embrace any opportunity for a date with open arms. We love our children, but we also love each other. Deeply.
So we kiss our children goodbye, leave them in very capable hands, and take off into the afternoon sun through winter winds to a spot where we can be, and eat, and talk. The kind of talk that you do early on in relationships. Deep talks where you listen. Only now it’s about parts of our daily lives that rarely get divulged to each other due to children and chores and laptops. We talk about exciting things at his work, and about my upcoming writing class/workshop. He listens as I talk about this blog, and the friends that have come from blogging. We talk about things that normally get pushed aside for grocery lists, children’s books and daily happenings. We talk. We listen. We fall in love.
Every chance we get, we fall in love again.
Intoxication comes over quickly and I’m dumbfounded by the man who sits across the table from me. Smart, handsome, caring; everything I could have asked for in a husband, a partner in parenting, a friend. He’s mine, and I’m his, and the world – however cruel it seems at times – is wonderful.
We walk out of the restaurant doors into the winter wind, but we don’t feel the sting against our cheeks. We wrap arms around one another, snuggle in, and walk as one down side streets that we once ran down when we were newly in love. Years later as newlyweds. And now as a couple five years into a marriage that has seen its ups and downs, but we always manage to run through the finish line at the end of the day. Still holding hands, oblivious to the sting.
We hold on to each other for dear life, and take the opportunity to fall in love again every chance we get.