Dear husband,
The other day you leaned over and told me that you loved falling in love with me.
Past tense.
That you miss “the good old days”.
And honestly, usually when you say things like this, I get a little bit frustrated.
I get frustrated because I am so happy in the “right now” season of life. With little kids. With a newborn and a toddler.
We’re in the thick of being up together at night. Struggling and succeeding through parenthood. Together.
And I love it.
But then you said something else.
You said, “Babe, I know you hate when I say these things. I get it. But I just love reminiscing about the time when we were falling in love because I want my boys to experience that, too. I want them to experience a love as good as ours.”
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And right then and there, it hit me.
I began to think about “the good old days”. The days before kids. The days when we were falling in love.
We couldn’t get enough of each other.
We would stay up all night talking.
Drinking wine.
Watching movies.
Sitting by the fireplace.
Riding bikes to the ice cream shop down the road.
Cooking together without rushing.
Looking at each other, and really seeing each other.
Planning our future.
And in that moment, I missed it.
I missed falling in love with you.
Right now, we’re in a different season. We’re in the thick of raising kids, and a lot of our focus is on them.
We don’t have much time to slow down and just fall in love.
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Staying up late together means exhausted and impatient days with the kids. We have to schedule in alone time and communication.
So yes, dear husband, I’m going to agree with you this time.
I miss falling in love with you.
Somedays, when I look in the mirror and I see my messed up ponytail, milk stained shirt, and tired eyes,
I miss the “good old days” so much.
Because we can never go back to our younger selves.
The innocence. The excitement of getting to know each other. The rush of it all.
And even though the “right now” is different, and beautiful in its own way, even though I love the “right now” . . .
Today, I’m going to let myself miss it.
I’m going to let myself miss falling in love with you.
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This post originally appeared on Messy Footprints
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