Currently This

This morning, while I was trying to sleep and the bunny was trying to dig through the plastic bottom of her cage to China, I was laying there craving eggs. Thinking sunny-side-up, maybe scrambled with toast, but eggs.

I eventually fell asleep because my husband had covered the bunny so she would go to sleep and stop making all that noise. When I woke up again, he had made me an egg sandwich. I never mentioned wanting eggs - he just knew somehow.

We don't have time for romance these days. I do miss it, kissing for hours and not being able to get close enough to someone. I miss the tease of romance, the ache of needing someone's touch and dying to run my fingers through their hair. Waiting for them to please, please touch me already, all that. Kids and work and living paycheck to paycheck takes its toll.

When people rationalize affairs by saying they miss romance, I think of the way my husband works a job he hates to raise another man's kids or how on the 29th of every single month for the last ten years he has wished me a happy anniversary. I don't get love letters anymore, but I get egg sandwiches. It's as breathless a gesture as that first kiss, it really is.