Valentines pause

Valentines Day;

I curl my hair and put it up in a classis pony tail. I put on a little more make up than usual, not too much but enough to make my eyes look bigger. I hate it when they look small. I put on tight jeans and black heels. Jeans, not a skirt or a dress but jeans cause I know you like them better. And the heels, they're the kind that make you look taller and thinner and better. I change two times before putting back on that first outfit since you mention in passing that I should wear it to a hot rod show. That’s how I know you like it. So I settle and we go so your impatience doesn’t pass your brisk walk and low tones.

Through the crowd I see men look at me. They nod and smile. Out of the corner of my eye I see them watch me walk by. I wonder if they think things you don’t, see things you used to. Maybe I just notice because they’re new. Then again there are other ways. You still say nothing, your look doesn’t linger and only when I scoot my chair to yours, lean over our baby girl and hold your hand do you hold my eyes. You smile and then look on. We hold hands several times through the night. But always mine, reaching for yours.

We change for bed. I take my clothes off all at one time. Not top then bottom or bottom then top but all. I put my pajama pants on first and wait. My shirt in my hands but I wait. Just a second or maybe two. A pause. Standing there for you, self conscience and bare skinned but I hold time for hope. Your right there, just feet away and I hold my breath.. Waiting for a stop, a glance, a double take.. hoping for a thought that I can read on your face. A smirk of pleasure a smile of romance. Nothing. Our 4 year old daughter comes barreling in and notices what you don’t. Giggles at mommies nakedness. In one swift second my shirts on and I blink away that pause in time and focus on her.

I lay in bed. Instead of coming to your side I hold onto my own. You reach to rub my back and your strong warm hands feels so good its heaven. You notice the space between us and mention it. Instead of leaping over like the pet I usually am. I quietly ask if you want me to come cuddle. This is strength for me. You tell me to do whatever’s most comfortable. I don’t move. I’m jealous and angry that so much is physical for you. If I did as you and only did whatever is comfortable for my body instead of my mind or heart, life would be easy.

Yet I’m angry at myself too. You got me flowers, and chocolate and took me out. You’re a good man who loves me, a good Father and provider. A best friend even. Someone to be goofy with and laugh until I cant breathe.

I am nothing special not beautiful or unique. I have my qualities good enough that I can understand and accept your love.. but no raving rarity that I should expect your pause. And yet that’s it. Some reasoning that surfaces with every day that I will always hate and never fully comprehend nor quench. Your pause. A talent most males and especially you do not have would be to first think and then be able to express and vocalize your sweet thoughts. But that would be a rarity I should not get used to. So for now I pray for a stop, a glance, a double take. A pause from you to me. A breath lost for love. Why it means so much. Why I should be such a silly woman that it takes time over my life to ponder over I will never understand. But still why not? Why should it be so hard that a pause from my husband should be there and long enough to translate into love. And why on valentines day do I feel a deep guilt for wanting this above all else when so much more matters. But still its there. It will always be there.

I worry about what these thoughts mean for our marriage and I worry even more what it means that I’m now writing it down. I know what it doesn’t though and that is good. It doesn’t mean that my love is any less or that it wavers. It doesn’t mean that my life is not full to the brim. It doesn’t mean that his feelings aren’t just as strong as mine or that our marriage isn’t going to last. It just means that I wait for his pause. For a sign of passion that’s innocent and whole and real and just for me. I’ve had it before and Ill have it again and when I do, each time I do, I know that I will still wait for it the very next day.