MaryB and the City

Pancakes.

Relationships, all of them, take work. Regular maintenance. Somedays the ride is smooth sailing, while others…well, not so much.

Mr. Big and I have reached [to borrow from my Airtran pilot], “a cruising altitude of 33,000 feet.” In other words, we’re good. Real good. No registered turbulence. Reclined seats. Sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.

Finally there is a routine, too. He flew to see me. I flew to see him. He flies again soon. The two week intervals are back on track. Albeit our wallets are consequently anorexic in appearance, but our frequent flier miles are progressively obese. We’ve also given ourselves a timeline of 3-6 months to figure out where our final destination will be as far as permanent residence. With so many variables up in the air right now, having some kind of end in sight is reassuring.

I spent Valentine’s Day with him and it was, for lack of a better word, perfect. Quality cuddle time, a walk in the park on a beautiful afternoon, met his fun neighbors, he took me out for sushi and sake, to Sunday brunch, and arranged for us to visit the spellbinding Georgia Aquarium. I cooked two breakfast meals ~ eggs followed by pancakes complete with pink & red sprinkles on top, plus one mighty homemade dinner that could have fed an extended Italian family.

Oh and of course, a batch of cupcakes.

The weekend was organically romantic and comfortably domesticated. Simplicity could be interpreted as boring or uninspiring, but on the contrary, our time together feels cozy, like worn-in pajama pants. We don’t have to necessarily impress each other like a new couple would do, and feel completely unguarded as a pair just being in each other’s presence. The carved out times we spend every other week feels like a forecast to our future.

Sure, the expression Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder could certainly be a catalyst to the extraordinary fondness oozing from our pores. But what I anticipated would be a near impossible experience to foster a long-distance connection while building trust, is far from it. At the risk of sounding like a Folger’s coffee commercial, I am literally catching myself falling more and more in love with him every day.

A plus-side of virtually being the last single lady standing in my peer group to get hitched is that I’ve been super exposed to the realities of [unglamourous] married life. From the 31.5-year-old tuned-in observation deck, I know what to expect. Reality being that once the satin, beaded gown comes off, and honeymoon butterflies simmer down ~ it is just the two of you.

So although I’m acutely aware of what is in store and that day-to-day life may not necessarily look so shiny behind a mortgage loan, a shared wardrobe closet, and delicately merging families…that is OK with me. As Harry famously said to Sally, “…because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.”

There is a nursery rhyme that says little girls are made of sugar and spice, and everything nice. Existing in a relationship that forces you to truly appreciate the little things and not take each other for granted [particularly from a 450 mile distance]; that is what I will take from this experience. And perhaps I won’t wait until the second week in February to pour heart-shaped decorations over pancakes.