What It Feels Like


          So, today I feel like informing you all, including Marc of course, on what it feels like to countdown the hours in the day when all you want to do is get a chance to spend time with your partner. I don't know about you all, but when I wake up, sometimes I'm in a fog for a good bit of time, and other times I'm wide awake, right away. On the days when I wake up right away, I feel kind of cheated. I get all excited to see Marc, and then realize he has to leave for the next 11 hours of the day. On days when I'm stuck in the fog, I get mad at myself for wasting that bit of time I could have had with Marc, regardless of how short the time. Then when he leaves, I literally try to create a list of things to do, enough to keep me preoccupied for at least the majority of the day. I hear his car pull off, and I impatiently wait for the car to return. An hour passes by, and you sit there wondering how time could go by so slow. How can one hour feel like five? Especially when in the morning, those forty-five minutes feel like five. It doesn't make sense. So, the day goes on, and if you're like me, you're wondering why your partner hasn't texted you (even though it's because they're at work, obviously). You're stuck wondering, are they having a bad or good day at work? Did something exciting or crazy happen? Are they thinking about what I'm doing? Here's a heads up. I'm doing whatever I can to stay busy and keep myself from going crazy. You know how there's a period of time when women get off from work after having a baby? Maternity leave. Well, I think we should have that for marriages. Marriage leave. I know honeymoons exist, but with work and school, we were a bit limited with those plans. After a good chunk of the day passes, I finally begin to think about dinner. What will we eat? What will Marc like? Will he like something new, or should I just stick to things that I know he likes to eat? Beside one day this week, I've had dinner ready before Marc has gotten home. If that doesn't represent my eagerness, I don't know what will. Of course I could say it's my good timing, but I'd be lying if I said that was a skill of mine when it comes to cooking. In case you can't remember the story of my first time cooking for Marc's roommates, go back a couple weeks and read that post. Finally, you walk in. All day long, trying to keep myself busy, and I've made it. It doesn't matter how crappy or how great my day was, I can't help but be happy you're home.

With love always,
Becca Colón

P.s. I'm glad you liked tonight's dinner. I was freaking out.

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