I Remember Falling In Love
Falling in love , I think, is one of the greatest gifts we are given in this life. It lets you KNOW you're alive. I remember the tangled web of events that led to my relationship with Mr. Uno. I used to go to his comedy open mic. I thought he was so funny, so intelligent, so witty and pertinent, so...bearded. (Oh, was he bearded!) He used to have this comedy bit he did that made fun of racism AND George W. Bush all in one. The same joke also involved a little old man voice, and a prat fall. BAM! I was smitten. Massively smitten. So much so that I became shy, actually. (This, by the way, is highly uncharacteristic for me.)
Then came the early flirtations. He taught me how to play shuffle board, I bought him a shot of Jager. He told me I looked cute in a dress, I admitted that his old man voice was kind of sexy. He picked up my cell-phone off the table one night, noticing my "Don't Panic" banner. "Hey, is that a Douglas Adams reference?" SWOON! At one house party, we even ended up trading sweaters.
By the time we FINALLY started dating, I thought he was made of magic. He had a way about him that no other man in my life had ever even come close to, my angry little (exceedingly bearded) dark comedian.
Now, I am a (happily) married woman, and I wonder what happened to all that swooniness. You see, the thing is, he's STILL made of magic. Probably more so now, actually. Do I treat him the way I did in those early days? No, not at all. I get so wrapped up and stressed out. I'm a pretty lousy wife. I pull away from his snuggles, unable to relax because I can't make things perfect. I'm always blaming one of us for something in the loudest unvoiced parts of my brain. I question his wit after working alongside him as a comic for years. I forget how solid he is, at everything he does.
Why can't we just freefall into love? Why does there always have to be the "splat" of blame and guilt that defines human relationships? I'm going to work on ridding myself of this suckiness. If I figure out how, I'll let ya know.
Then came the early flirtations. He taught me how to play shuffle board, I bought him a shot of Jager. He told me I looked cute in a dress, I admitted that his old man voice was kind of sexy. He picked up my cell-phone off the table one night, noticing my "Don't Panic" banner. "Hey, is that a Douglas Adams reference?" SWOON! At one house party, we even ended up trading sweaters.
By the time we FINALLY started dating, I thought he was made of magic. He had a way about him that no other man in my life had ever even come close to, my angry little (exceedingly bearded) dark comedian.
Now, I am a (happily) married woman, and I wonder what happened to all that swooniness. You see, the thing is, he's STILL made of magic. Probably more so now, actually. Do I treat him the way I did in those early days? No, not at all. I get so wrapped up and stressed out. I'm a pretty lousy wife. I pull away from his snuggles, unable to relax because I can't make things perfect. I'm always blaming one of us for something in the loudest unvoiced parts of my brain. I question his wit after working alongside him as a comic for years. I forget how solid he is, at everything he does.
Why can't we just freefall into love? Why does there always have to be the "splat" of blame and guilt that defines human relationships? I'm going to work on ridding myself of this suckiness. If I figure out how, I'll let ya know.
By:
unobserver
Age:
31-35
,
Female
