Sometimes it’s hard to write about normal life here because truth be told, normal life is kind of boring. We don’t have any kids, I can’t talk too much about work because of confidentiality reasons and our dogs, while absolutely adorable to us, probably aren’t that interesting to you. I mean, for the most part, we try to get out of the house occasionally but it’s usually out to dinner with some friends or to a show downtown, but a lot of times, we spend entire weekends at home because we are, by nature, homebodies – me more than Steve because he’s usually the first one to say, “Let’s do something, we NEED to get out of this house”.
It’s particularly boring when pestilence settles over the house, which is what happened last week.
It started the Saturday before last when Steve mentioned that he thought he was getting sick, which meant he was already sick because Steve usually doesn’t indicate that anythings wrong with him. Cut to that Sunday night when he’s up and down out of bed and I can hear him wheezing as he’s sitting on the edge and he explains that he can barely sleep because every time he lays down, it feels like someone is sitting on his chest. Of course, when he stayed home the next day, I insisted he go to the doctor because the wheezing was bad, he has asthma and we had no inhaler in the house.
He turned out to have bronchitis and a sinus infection and probably an ear infection. And he was out of work for two days.
Which means I prepped myself to get sick.
Sometimes my brain has a hard time wrapping itself around the idea that we’ve been together almost half of my life. There are moments where it feels like just yesterday that we had our first date, sitting in the mall parking lot in your Bronco drinking beer and just talking while waiting to go in to see a movie. But most of the time, I feel the gravity of those twelve years, the comfort in knowing who you are and who I am and who we are together as one. It is a wonderful feeling, that comfort, because there is a sense of peace and safety in that for me. You have such a way of making me feel safe and secure in myself, in us, in my place in the world. There is nothing greater to me than knowing that I will come home to you every evening and wake up to you every morning. In knowing that the moments of silence are ok and just as special as the loud and boisterous ones. Some of the greatest moments of my life have been spent in your presence alone, enjoying a long road trip or navigating you through the rocky trails of the Poconos or enjoying a day long concert or drag racing where we are over excited, overwhelmed and just generally hyped up over how much fun we are having.
January has been a busy month for me and February kicked off in a fairly crappy way. Since it’s the first of the month though, it’s time for some poetry and since February is the month of Valentine’s Day, I thought I’d share with you one of my all time favorite love poems.
This has always been and always will be one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever read!
This is Steve and I, circa Fall 2000 or Spring 2001 – though I’m assuming since I was wearing a sweater it was most likely fall. I know this because that poster behind us is one of those ubiquitous drinking posters that I picked up at Spencer’s and hung in the apartment I shared with four of my sorority sisters at the time. I was probably only 19 here and he had mostly likely just turned 20. We were fresh into our new relationship that had started that summer. I have always loved this picture of us and man if I could’ve told myself back then how awesome it would be today, I probably wouldn’t have believed it! Eleven years later and we’re still going strong. He is my world!
In this house, we do horror.
Horror is one of Steve’s favorite movie genres. It’s not my preferred one but I certainly don’t mind it. The slasher flicks are my favorite – I can sit down and watch a good old-fashioned knife-stabbing, blood shedding film any time of the year. The ones I have more of a problem with are the paranormal fantasy types because those scare the ever living shit out of me. (I’m looking at you Paranormal Activities). We are big fans of the classics and Steve, much to my chagrin sometimes, loves the B-movies – things like El Chupacabra takes Manhatten while Being Afraid of the Dark [1. Not a real movie, but you get my drift! :-)]
We do Halloween. When we lived in Pennsylvania we spent the entire month of October visiting any haunt that was within in a two hour radius [1. Shocktoberfest, Arasapha Farms, Jason’s Woods and Field of Screams were some of our favorites – in that order!]. We watched all of the scary movies AMC would play constantly. We spent weeks prepping our costumes, tons of money in the Halloween Adventure stores and went to as many events as we were invited to. This past year we dressed up for a party and to help my parents in their neighborhood haunted house. Steve was Jason Vorhees and chased kids with a chainsaw – loved every minute of it!
If you look back at that post, you’ll see Steve in his hockey mask. That mask was actually one he borrowed from my parents. It’s simple white plastic one that I’m sure they purchased from a costume store. We have one just like it somewhere. But for the longest time, Steve has been jonesing for a real one – one that looks all worn and authentic like in the movies but is light enough to wear. He thought he had been successful when he picked one up from Toys-R-Us, but that one ended up being a bit campy and really heavy.