I don’t how I’ll write this post through a Moet-induced coma. That says a lot about the night that has passed.
It is post 2am after all. I keep hitting ‘backspace’ because all the wrong keys are getting knocked about by my clumsy, tired, tipsy fingers.
It’s all a haze. A beautiful haze.
A happy haze. A drunk haze. An intimate haze. It’s great when we get to have one of ‘our’ nights: a night out, dinner somewhere, more drinks and music at home, put baby girl to bed, and then…
Us time. It is so needed and yet so infrequent in its appearance and availability. But when it does come, usually on a Saturday night, I love it.
I just asked him “would you be offended if I brought Chartreuse (a 50% or so alcoholic drink) upstairs?”
Like I said, I LOVE these nights.
It’s a throwback to how things used to be, pre-baby girl. Only now it’s better… because we have baby girl, but we’re also having these wild nights.
We can be intimate, close, and bond physically and emotionally. We can feel each other through a variety of avenues, explore, re-connect, and just look each other in the eyes and say “I remember.”
Nights like these end in the same way, no matter what path they’ve taken. Moet in the bedroom, cheers upon cheers, clinking glasses. Following the climactic end, we talk. And talk and talk. We talk of good, and talk of bad. I don’t know how many couples out there talk of death following their intimate moments, but we sure do. We go through what we appreciate. What we love. How we love each other. Baby girl. She is visible there on the monitor. We love her to the end of the world – she is our saviour.
And then death. His Dad passed away. What a solemn moment. We get teary. We cry. Life has changed forever. But we’ll do with Life, what we can. Clink glasses. Top up the Moet. More tears. We miss him.
Baby girl is the best. We live for her. Our Sea change house – we are RAPT. How we met.
He is my best friend.
I am his best friend.
We are still as beautiful to each other as we were 16 years ago when we met.
Love, loss, learning. Life and love. Let go. Love.
These are our wild Saturday nights. Staying up, reminiscing, re-discovering one another.
It’s all too infrequent, we need to do this more.
We love each other so much.
It’s all about the intimac-sex.
I can only write a post like this drunk. Drunk posts need to be written more often.
Death, life. All is raw.