I Think It Was the Socks

A friend recently told me she read somewhere that the “honeymoon phase” only lasts for 2 years. After that, the flaws start to set in, the infatuation diminishes. This was news to me. Prior to my current relationship, I usually waved goodbye to the honeymoon around
month 3.

But Mr. Wonderful is a different story. It’s now been 6 ½ months and I’m as giddy as I was back in November.

For the past couple of weeks, his roommate has been out of town on business. This has given me the unique opportunity to help Mr. Wonderful clean his house, prune his trees, re-landscape his front yard. Some of you may be saying, “Eww,” but to me, these activities are heavenly. They feel like home. They’re the sort of things I want to be doing 10 years from now—after the honeymoon really is over. And the best part is that even when I’m covered in dirt, with ratty hair and no makeup (okay fine, maybe a little mascara), he treats me like a queen. He kisses me, smiles at me, rubs my shoulders.

Yesterday, it just became too much. Maybe it was the latte he made me at breakfast. Or the socks he loaned me because I forgot mine at home. Or the fun we had the night before at Gyu-Kaku. Or just the plain and simple fact that my mouth is the size of that whale ride at Disneyland.

It was probably a combination of all those and more. But when he walked me out to my car and wrapped his arms around me, kissing me, telling me how great I was for helping him pull ivy roots and plant delphiniums, I had to (couldn’t hold it in any longer) respond with, “I only do it because I’m head over heels in love with you.”

I didn’t expect to hear it back. I just needed to say it. It was like a piece of gum I’d been chewing way too long. I had to spit it out. So I did. And I’m sure he was a little taken aback. He squeezed me tighter and said, “awwwe.” That was good enough for me. Especially if I get to have another 17 ½ months of this delightful moon with my honey.