I love you. Please leave me alone.
Darling Husband and I have been together for a long time — since junior year of high school — so we often get the whole, “Wow-you-guys-have-been-together-forever-what’s-your-secret?” question …
The truth? Being together for almost a decade doesn’t mean it gets easier. Our relationship — like every relationship — takes work. And some of that “work” is knowing when to get the hell away from each other.
Yup, if I could sum up our relationship-saving advice, it would be two words: “time alone.”
“Honey, I love you … now please go to the other room.”
I have seen couples — friends, even — who spend every possible minute together. And you know what? It usually ends badly.
People need to be alone sometimes.
People like to be alone sometimes.
If you spend too much time with someone — whether it’s your parent, sibling, best friend, or partner — you are going to be cranky and fight about the stupidest stuff, just because you are sick of each other but don’t realize it.
When Darling Husband and I were dating — and still living at our parents’ places — we would hang out constantly. I would stay at his parents’ place until the wee hours. We would talk on the phone for an hour or so once I got home.
I was tired a lot, from staying up late, but I didn’t want to stop the late-night chats. We squabbled quite a bit, because we were constantly together. I barely had time to read. But I never once thought about spending less time together. I wanted to be with him all the time … right? …
When we moved into our first apartment together, things relaxed a bit. Spending time together was easier, because … well, we lived together. I was able to go into another room and paint or read, knowing that he was in the other room watching TV. Call me possessive, but having him in the other room was much better than having him two towns away.
It has only improved over the years. Now that we’re older, wiser, blah blah blah, we appreciate time alone even more — and we really recognize its importance.
On date night sometimes, we will come home from work, make dinner, eat dinner, clean up, and then — poof! — my patience expires. I have been on the go since 6 or 7 a.m., dealing with people and putting on a happy face, and suddenly I just can’t take it anymore.
So, recognizing that I could erupt at any second, Darling Husband will cautiously suggest we go our separate ways for an hour or two. I read a book or make a craft, he plays a little PS3 or goes on the computer, and then we’re good to meet up for the second half of the evening. We are both more relaxed, and happy to see each other.
All is good.
Seriously — being alone has kept us together.
Not Me Mondays
Happy Monday! And wow, Happy June! How was everyone’s weekend? I can tell you a bit about mine …
- I did not wear the exact same tank top, shorts and ponytail all weekend, while on a mad cooking binge. I always shower daily, style my hair, and slip into fresh, coordinating outfits — even when I’m not leaving the condo.
- I did not watch Jerry Maguire for the nine-millionth time. I did not tear up and fall in love with Tom Cruise all over again. I did not cry at his gentle eyes when he said, “You complete me.”
- Chips for dinner? Who, me? Never.
- I did not scald myself badly with the gluegun. Only a klutz would be so distracted by what was on TV, that she would squeeze the trigger excitedly while holding it over her bare ankle.
- I did not record episodes of TLC’s Clean Sweep and then fast-forward them to the very end, just so I could pause on the “after” shots. Shelving and storage solutions really don’t interest me.
What a thoughtful present
Yup, I now have my own collection of air sickness bags …
Thanks, Darling Husband. I’m sure those might come in handy over the upcoming months.
I will carry one in my purse when the time comes, because I am super-paranoid and over-prepared — I mean, what if it hits when I’m stuck in an elevator or something?
But, God willing, I will make it to a bathroom in time. Because the idea of puking in an air sickness bag … while not on a plane??? Makes me, well, sick.
Made-up recipe review: Meat-less meat sauce
- Look into cupboards/fridge/freezer and realize you are basically out of everything.
- Decide Kraft Dinner is not a feasible option — plus, you always make it too mushy.
- See that you are out of your usual whole-wheat pasta, and only have an old box of white pasta.
- Boil water and add evil white pasta.
- Find dusty jar of vegetable-based pasta sauce.
- Dump it into a pot and begin simmering.
- Realize that you always put ground beef in your pasta sauce, and that Darling Husband might be weak after eating plain jarred sauce and pasta.
- Recall that vegetarian friend Lindsey often uses veggies to make pasta sauce hearty.
- Scrounge around in the fridge for any vegetables.
- Spinach? Sure.
- Zucchini? Yup.
- Blend the crap out of the vegetables and mix them into the sauce. It should look … definitely different than it did before you added all those random vegetables …
- Serve over spaghetti, with a side of broccoli.
- Never mention that aforementioned sauce actually contains vegetables …
- … you know, until a few days after aforementioned husband eats it, and even says it’s good (sorry, hon).
Bon appetit!
P.S. What’s that? You think it would be better with melted cheese? Well, yes, I agree.
An open letter to my gluegun:
I miss you quite terribly, Gluegun. I’m not sure what happened to us over the last few weeks.
I was busy, you were … well, you were always available. But either way, we just didn’t connect.
I know you are jealous with all of the extra attention I have been giving my novel. But I still should have made time for you.
There are so many projects I want us to do together! Make felt food and a coordinating roll-up kitchen — small condo means the giant plastic kitchen sets are a big no-no. Make a quiet book to add to my growing shelves of kiddie lit.
Let’s make a date this weekend to spend some quality time together. Don’t worry about Darling Husband interrupting us — I think hockey playoffs are still on.
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