Tuesday, August 3, 2010

I have to confess. When I left Macy’s last night, my thoughts were running wild with the reception I would receive on my first night “home.” I imagined my wife waiting for me, breathless with anticipation. I pictured her taking hold of my tie, pulling me close, and leading me upstairs. Even though we had been together for more than 15 years, I was as nervous as a new boyfriend.

When I got to the loft, absolutely nothing happened. No joyful reunion. No passionate encounter. Nothing that suggested that this was anything other than the most ordinary night in the most ordinary of marriages. I was confused and let down. It was all very surreal after Saturday morning. I had no idea what to think, but it was infinitely better than being separated, so I guess I’ll just take it as it comes and see how it develops.

This morning, we walked over to a nearby coffee shop and had affogatos, an espresso drink with ice cream. It’s so wonderful to be back together and now it seems like we might be able to have the life we both always wanted, but never could seem to make happen. There’s a feeling of newness with the familiarity of knowing each other so well, so it’s weird being in an almost new relationship, yet with the same person I’ve been with for years.

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