The weekend I fell in love*

*With my husband. Again.

On Friday Mr T & I celebrated our 5th wedding anniversary in the beautiful city of Barcelona & I fell in love. With Barcelona & with my husband.

I need to be very clear here: I never fell out of love with Mr T. I have just fallen for him all over again.

The past few months have been tough in our household (something I will perhaps write about more when I’m further down the road to recovery), but essentially, I realised that I could not continue to spin the number of plates I had been trying to spin & live up to my own impossibly high standards & so I just stopped. The catalyst was the death of a friend, but I had been approaching the edge of that particular cliff previously & this served as the last push over the edge & I no longer felt I had the energy to get back up.

I cried & slept intermittently for a week & that’s about it – if I wasn’t doing one I was doing the other. I began counselling & this has really helped & I am starting to feel much more like my old self.

What I hadn’t noticed was a shift in the dynamic between Mr T & I. He had been so busy looking after me, the house, Little T, the dog & everything else (& I had been busy letting him) that somewhere along the line we became close to becoming more like companions or people in a house share than husband & wife.

We still shared the same bed, but no intimacy, as I felt so low, I couldn’t think of anything worse than trying to feel sexy; plus I had no energy & felt so zapped by the end of each day I would fall into a fitful sleep quite quickly, only to wake up several times each night worrying about things that, in the cold light of day would seem less significant, but at 3am in total darkness, they seem insurmountable & I would be tired & irritable the following day – usually allowing Mr T to take the brunt of this.

Mr T did a wonderful job of keeping everything together when I felt like it was falling apart & I adore him for that. What I am about to say only dawned on me today when I reflected on our weekend away & I instantly felt awful as the realisation hit me, but I had come to take him for granted.

This weekend enabled us to focus on ourselves, without anything else to think about – or more precisely, anyone else to think about.

It was probably quite a selfish thing to do; send Little T to his grandparents for the weekend, while we gallivanted off, but – do you know what – I’m totally fine with that. We needed it.

We enjoyed wandering the streets hand-in-hand, without making any decisions more complicated than what cocktail we were going to order later (me) or what ice cream flavour to try next at the many gelateries we passed (Mr T). The more relaxed we became, the more enjoyable our time together was & the more relaxed that made us.

Something else happened too & I can’t pinpoint exactly when, but I started to get butterflies in my tummy when Mr T took my hand, or smiled in my direction.

Being parents to a 3 year old, having a full-time job & a house to keep is exhausting. We had simply run out of time for each other. Coupled with the way I was feeling, this could have been a recipe for disaster. Relationships take work & I had neglected to work at ours while I was spending so much energy working on myself.

I hope we can learn from this going forward & take the time to be together. However selfish it may appear to the outside world, if anyone judges then let them judge. Taking time for each other is a necessity, not a luxury. I now understand ‘date night’ – a concept we’ve never embraced before, but I now think we should; with the rules of no work, toddler or house talk.

When we said our vows 5 years ago, we promised to support each other in sickness & in health & for richer & for poorer. We have been at each one of these points, with everything in between & have come out stronger on the other side. I love you, Mr T.

P.S. Without going in to too much detail, the intimacy is back & better than ever *grins like lovestruck idiot*

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