As most of you know, I have laid off the sauce basically subbing hot chocolate for wine, my running looks more like weird tip-toed walking and I am growing a human. Oh and I got bangs. Skills I have acquired in the past six-ish months include that I am a great Designated Driver, I am really good at naps and I like making breakfast, specifically egg-in-a-hole (come over any time!). So this past weekend, the husband had been watching the NFL playoffs with his buddies at a Chicago bar we found in Denver (great calzones and $2 Coor's Banquet beers all day every day). Note: I went to the bar solely for a calzone and then went home to nap, meeting up with them all later to catch the final game and you know, be a rad DD.
Well, the $2 deal rocked my man and he was feeling good. We were hanging out and around 10:17pm I decided I needed an ice cream to feel complete about my day. A waffle cone, two scoops and some type of chocolate chip in there. Do note my car thermometer read 30 degrees F, who eats ice cream at this hour, much less at these temps?
So we leave our friends (yes, we are making friends in Denver!) and we arrive to the local shop called Sweet Action. The place is packed. Who knew?
I order it up big time and savor the flavor of the scoops of almond butter crunch and blackberry lavender in a handmade waffle cone. Chris ordered the butter pecan. His was better. Noted.
So we grab a seat amongst all the patrons and we enjoy the sugar. Chris was wearing this really cute outfit with khakis, Vans, a 90210 Beverly Hills cop hat he found somewhere and a grey half zip sweater I had bought him for a birthday or Christmas when we first started dating many, many a moons ago. He is such a stud.
He is a bit slap happy by this point mixing the likes of calzones, Coors and butter pecan in a cone. You should know, drunk Chris is really fun. He is loud, sings in the car, dances, and is very sweet. And tonight, he was feeling the emotional feels. In the middle of ice cream bites and the lingering drips all up in his beard, he starts to tell me that he loves me. Like let me look deep your eyes, slow my speech and tell you how I feel type of I love you. The best kind there is, really.
As a reminder, I hate crying in public. And I feel the feels coming.
He says he loves me so much and is just so happy. And smiles with ice cream in the beard. And to my dismay, I respond with some aversion tactic pointing to my bulging belly bump (it gets really big at night) and I say, "I know, we are having a baby!".
His face gets stern and he looks at me and shakes his head and he says, "Don't. Don't you change the subject".
"She (baby) can totally be the subject, a subject of love that is", I retort in a weird voice that is not mine.
Chris goes all wisdom monster (as he always does) on me and tells me that he loves ME. For me. He goes into explaining how happy he is that we are having a baby but he wants me to hear him that he loves me so much. Baby or no baby. He loves all of me.
And then he goes on to explain that he sees us when we are older in rocking chairs overlooking some river in our log cabin. Oddly (or not so oddly), I have seen this exact vision before when a coach took me to my 80 year old self vision recently.
I listen intently. Because he asked me to. And because I promised I would always listen to him and this felt important. It was important.
And of course, I am starting to sweat a little bit.
A lot a bit, while devouring the rest of my freezing ice cream in a cone and seeing if anyone is listening to our conversation.
I ask him if we can leave so I don't have a total breakdown in this ice cream shop.
He says yes and we walk out and I am holding on so tight, both arms wrapped around that grey half zip sweater I bought him so many years ago. And he laughs and says he would be happy with me forever and ever. Whatever happens. He is all good with me.
And I cry while walking in the probably now 28 degree weather back to our car. And I thank him, tell him I love him so much, too and he kisses me. And there it is. That magic. It comes when you least expect it. You know the magic I am talking about? It is not always in your face, especially in relationships. But man, when it surfaces, hold on tight!
The next morning I thought more about what Chris had said to me. How he demanded I not change the subject and I hear him fully as he professed his love to me in the middle of that perfectly named Sweet Action ice cream shop.
I realized that I had been trying not to feel it, or accept it in that particular moment. His massive heart and totally drunk love moment. I was trying to avoid the conversation so that random dude and that couple next to us or the ice cream scoopers turning the open sign to close would not see me getting emotional.
Using our beautiful unborn baby girl as an out.
Do you do this?
Do you get emotional and then divert the attention, not dive in and feel it all?
Why do we do this?
I say, we have got to stop it or we are going to miss it.
STOP IT. As simple as that, stop diverting the attention, stop stopping the feelings, stop hearing the truth of the matter. Plain and simple.
I will not assign you homework or a Brene Brown article to read. I will not tell you to do some self love work first.
Because what if it is that simple? To truly STOP IT and let all the love in. Let the tears well and feel all the feels because honestly, that is being alive.
You know I am going to try. So much harder.
You in? Let's feel all the feels, connect deeper and stop changing the subject.