At times it seems the distance between us creeps in much like the cold fingers of evening fog crossing the lake where we vacation each June. The ebb and flow of feelings in a marriage is hard to quantify. But recently, Adventure Guy and I have been “off.” We’re not arguing; there has been no major crisis. But the connection? The understanding? They’ve been missing more than I’d like.
And, honestly, this time around–and it’s happened before, will happen again–I’d say the fault lies with me. I’m dissatisfied with things in general right now, for no clear reason. Why is it we always want more and more, or at least I do? Whether that more comes in the guise of things, or accomplishments, or appearances, I typically move on to wanting the next thing as soon as I’ve acquired the source of my initial desire.
And, yes, I realize that’s no way to live. So I’m working on it. Today, we slept in and missed church, something I normally would have felt guilty about (I’m good at the guilt thing too). But this morning I decided to take advantage of our found time, telling Adventure Guy we needed to get out and run some errands, just the two of us.
While looking for new cabinet hardware may not seem romantic to most, we allowed ourselves to leisurely browse through the stores, even stopping by a men’s store we passed on our way to Restoration Hardware. Adventure Guy found an unexpected bargain on a new suit and also bought a couple of shirts and ties I picked out. We went to Lowe’s and the grocery store. We talked.
And now he’s in the kitchen making beer can chicken for dinner, and a moment ago I even let him pop my toes as he walked by–something he loves to do and I’m not a real fan of. And I can feel the previous fog that shrouded us, keeping us apart for no apparent reason, burning off just as it does when the sun comes out on the lake.