Friday, September 19, 2014

fireworks

My husband pressed his lips to mine softly this morning before he left. It's our morning ritual, but it made me think of a time seventeen years ago when he did the same thing.

Intimacy makes me uncomfortable. So does silence. I even have a difficult time looking someone straight in the eyes, so when we first started dating, I made sure that I was always chattering. About something, about nothing, about everything.

When I think back on that time, I have to give myself a little grace. I was only 20 years old--still a baby, really, although no twenty-year-old wants to hear that they are a baby (but they are). I didn't. But  I remember that cool summer night, standing under the stars by my car, as I chattered on about this, that and the other. He finally interrupted me with pressing his lips softly to mine. A gentle kiss to tell me everything he couldn't find the words to say.

Fireworks.




A successful marriage requires falling in love many times,
always with the same person.
{mignon mclaughlin}

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