Tuesday, June 3rd, 2008
D and I spent last week in that charming city by the sea, Charleston, S.C. We went there for our honeymoon six years ago, and I intended this to be a romantic, nostalgic anniversary trip. For once, my best-laid plans actually worked out.
It had been a year since we’d gone on a just-me-and-D vacation, and I’d almost forgotten how lovely it is to just be alone together, away from the barking dog and demanding house and clutter and dishes in the sink. We get along so much better when the only thing to bicker about is which delightful restaurant to eat at tonight, which charming house museum to see next – and somehow we can’t muster up the desire to argue about those things. I plan, D goes along, we sleep late and never make it down to breakfast.
At home, I often don’t appreciate his company enough. His jokes get on my nerves, or I want him to just keep his hands to himself for five minutes while I try to concentrate on work.
But on vacation – on this vacation in particular – I can’t get enough of him. This trip I woke back up to all the things I love about him – how patient he was with me when I wore inappropriate shoes one morning and turned grouchier with every step, how he fanned me and bought me water when I got overheated on a pell-mell dash through the heat to catch a harbor cruise, how he made me laugh at myself when I inevitably dropped food on my shirt. He spoiled me – he always spoils me – and I was nice to him, too. I laughed at his jokes and scratched his back, and we tasted each other’s dishes at dinner and talked about the food and reminisced about our honeymoon. We went on a carriage ride with our knees touching and held hands in the dark on a walking ghost tour. We petted soft little rabbits and rescued a rooster together at Magnolia Plantation; we pointed out details to each other at the gorgeously restored Nathaniel Russell house museum. One night we tried to get drunk and when that failed, we – giggling and slightly tipsy – ate dripping ice cream cones in the parking lot behind our hotel.
Though we missed our animals back home, we hated to leave this little sanctuary of fun, this pocket of time when the haze of stress and household clutter cleared enough to see how much we really love each other, how we actually can be – in spite of all appearances – on the same wavelength.
We got back home Friday evening, and we’ve been go-go-go since then, with hardly 10 solid minutes alone together. And I miss him! I heartily miss him. I didn’t want to go back to work on Monday, mostly because I didn’t want to be away from him. I’m more eager than ever to have just one job, one with flexible hours so I can be less stressed and have more time with D.
Today my boss and I discussed a last-day date – it’s still three weeks away, but at least it’s in sight. Soon – I hope – we’ll have Charleston all the time.
For trip pictures, see our Charleston photoset on Flickr.