All posts filed under: Marriage

Nobody, but Nobody

Now if you listen closely I’ll tell you what I know Storm clouds are gathering The wind is gonna blow The race of man is suffering And I can hear the moan, ‘Cause nobody, But nobody Can make it out here alone. — Maya Angelou, “Alone” 07.26.2007 I wrote my way out of my childhood, discovering who I was in the spaces between words. There were times in my life that defied my ability to write about them, and for those, I found solace in the words of others. 2007 was one of those times. It was the year that my first marriage quietly came to its final, legal end, taking with it the relationship I’d carefully erected my whole life around. It was also the year that I met the man who made that life implode. That man… God, falling in love with that man was the most fun I’ve ever known in my life. It was a beautiful, exquisite torture. And, on July 26, 2007, I was preparing to leave him. At one …


(Not) Love at First Sight

02.16.2007 I had been divorced 27 days when I met him. Decked out in my favorite jeans and a striped black top that afforded a peek-a-boo look at my fuchsia bra beneath, I felt like hot stuff. What can I say? I was 24-years-old, single for the first time in my adult life, and determined to spend the next year — at minimum — kissing random boys just because I could. And, then I walked into my friend’s apartment, and every plan I had went to hell. First, though, let me back up. She’d called me an hour earlier to tell me that her friend Ryan wanted to join us for our night of planned debauchery. (She’d just broken up with some jerk, so clearly.) “Look cute!” she said. She’d been hoping to set me up with this guy, and out of the blue, he’d called her. Fate, her voice seemed to suggest. “I always look cute” was my quippy reply. So armed with my usual cuteness and a complete lack of expectation, I walked …


The Long Days

I dream about him every night. Not Elliott, though he is often right there in the periphery of my mind, but Ryan. I dream about my husband. In these dreams, we are doing mundane things, the basic stuff of life… walking around Target, holding hands, talking. Sometimes, I wake in tears. I miss him. A lot. …which is ridiculous. I am one of those incredibly lucky women who have daddy home right now. He has paternity leave. By the time he returns to work, Ryan will have spent six weeks, day in, day out, with Elliott and I. And, yet, I find myself going through my day barely able to think of my handsome husband without tears in my eyes. I am aware postpartum hormones aren’t kind… or logical (!!). So, there’s that. Plus, we’ve established a sleep schedule that means we never lay beside one another. I generally sleep 10-4, and Ryan goes to bed when I wake. (This will change a lot once he goes back to work.) In the days after the …