We’ve been home for 38 hours or so, and even though I was at the office most of the day, I am still baffled by all of the free time there is to spend here in our apartment.
I’ve cooked a few meals, washed dishes, slept, read a book late into the night, ran laundry, showered twice, walked the dog, driven my car, unpacked a bag and then repacked a different one.
I knew the wedding took up a lot of space in our lives, especially mental and emotional energy for me, but the relief of being here with none of those pressing matters is more than I anticipated. It’s freedom and comfort at the same time. It’s absolute solace.
Tonight while I chopped veggies for guacamole, H turned from the grill where he was tending turkey burgers, and said “Wife” in this joking voice we use that sounds like a 16th century Englishman. And then he walked over to me, leaned in for a kiss, and then graced my forehead with another.
We’re both reassured, I think, now that it’s all passed, that we made the right decision. That emotionally we were there, our hearts entwined for a deeper commitment to unfold, and that grappling with the concrete demands of wedding planning and family issues kept sucking us away from each other and our selves.
Now we can rest. I’m devouring a new book and he’s enjoying hours of an old school skate game. There doesn’t seem to be much reason to leave the house. We both keep fingering our rings, the newness still not worn off, the odd surge of energy whenever one of us uses the words husband or wife. It’s all so different, and yet somehow familiar, like we’ve been here before.
But I think it’s because we’ve been here all along.