We got home around 10:30 pm on Tuesday, and hadn’t yet had dinner. Tyson made grilled cheese sandwiches, and we ate them over the sink so we wouldn’t get crumbs on the floor. As we ate in silence, I thought about how these are the quiet moments of intimacy that make up a marriage. Growing up, I thought marriage would be long and profound conversations before going to sleep at night, never having to go to a wedding reception alone, and an endless sharing of your iTunes playlist with another person. But I’ve found that I feel the most married to Tyson when we’re doing those seemingly insignificant, and sometimes mundane, things together– when we’re watching one of our TV shows while snuggling on our futon, when he picks me up to crack my back and kisses the back of my head as he is putting me down, when we sing and dance along to a song on the radio together.. It’s during these moments that only belong to us that I love him the most.
It’s bookmarking things I think he’ll find funny so I can show them to him later. It’s him always letting me have the first drink on a fresh Diet Coke. It’s wandering off to the book section at a store and knowing that he’ll know where to find me.. It’s that moment that comes right before sleep, after he’s turned off the light and kissed me goodnight, when his hand reaches out for mine, and I feel completely safe, in a moment that only belongs to us.