Okay, so if your wondering if I dropped off the planet in the last month, well, rest assurred I didn't. Just been disallusioning myself throughout the holidays by reading the "Twilight" saga that has, apparently, had girls of all ages swooning.
In fact, a friend (and fellow addictee) and I joke about how consuming the reading can be. I found myself staying up 'til the early hours of the morning just to spend more time in my imaginary world.
In this world, no one is sick or crying or needs me to fix them dinner. There are no presents that must be bought or places to be..... Only two things, that seem unimaginably important at the time, exist -- the hero and heroine.
Like other love stories I have read before, I find myself longing for that "butterflies in my tummy" feeling again that dissipates slightly after years of marriage. However, after a little more thought, I realized that I traded in (thankfully!) those butterflies for something that won't disappear so easily. Still having that "can't wait to see you at the end of the workday" feeling after 8 years, now that's true love!
And, really! The hero in the book is constantly concerned with her health. Who is really going to worry that much about your well-being ALL the time? Your mother, that's who! No guy is going to worry that every flinch or bruise might be something more. Only a mother can take the verbal abuse of "I don't like you anymore!" and still adore the little, mad person saying it, all the while wondering if he has a cold!!! In case you hadn't guessed, E's been a little cranky today.
Let me just end by saying that I'm glad I got my love story. I'm thankful that my husband still loves me after stretch marks and pounds that weren't always there, after all my clumsiness, after morning breath and no make-up, and let's not forget any hormone induced ravings. I love you, too. Thanks.