the glue that binds us

My husband and I are quite the opposites.

He is pragmatic, logical, organized, while I am the creative, disheveled romantic. We were both born the same year, but he is water and I am fire. He is taciturn, while I wear my heart on my sleeve.

We come at life very differently, he the early riser, filling his days with physical activity and work and sports. I am the night owl, and my days are filled with creative wonder and work and reading.

We meet in the middle for meals and family, vacations and holidays, and for a few minutes most nights, in front of a fire. In warm weather, we sit outside beneath the stars with our feet up and music playing. In winter, as soon as we both have finished our work and chores and activity for the day, there is the fireplace.

He will almost always be asleep before nine, while I will sit for hours reading, writing, knitting, thinking, often with whatever game he was watching still playing out unobserved on the television screen.

One night a few weeks ago, as we settled into this nightly ritual, my husband in his spot in the chair closest to the flames, me on the couch with the best view, and all the animals filed in to take their nightly places in this oh-so-quiet drama, (the two gray girls in the chair with him, the two male cats rearranging themselves at whim, and the dog in the extra chair) my husband looked at me and said, “so, here we are.”

We both laughed and settled in.

Indeed.

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Reverb 12/Cultivate 2012:

How can you nurture a healthy, loving relationship with your partner?

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