First day back and I am having a difficult time concentrating. Two weeks of vacation, jam packed with a house full of family, Thanksgiving, a wedding and honeymoon, will do that, I guess.
It's good to see all of our friends and to get back to the work stuff left unattended, but I can't help thinking of the sandy beaches of Cozumel, of my little brother and nieces' antics resounding in my house and of my new "little" sisters welcoming me with open arms. Just ask my co-workers, I've been rattling on about it all day.
But another important thing has happened - the most important of all. Something that can't be captured by photographs and funny memories of the drunk lady on our cruise ship.
I am a married woman. Officially off the market. The old ball and chain for one Mr. Stephen B. Herzog.
The day after the wedding, Steve and I both asked if the other felt differently. Neither of us did. We've lived together for nearly two years. We've been together for three. But as the days mount up, I'm starting to feel that thing that few can describe. A sense that I have something of his that no one else does and vice versa. More than ever, we are a family.
I mean, sure, we both inherited siblings, parents, nieces, cousins, aunts, uncles and grandparents through this marriage, but the two of us, alone, are one single unit, apart from all others. No matter what, there is someone in my corner who has no other allegiances, who shares my same motivations and who is willing to go any distance to make me happy (which I'm sure will be tested).
Honestly, I don't think I ever knew such a relationship existed, but I can't express how happy I am that I found it. And I'm writing this blog to make sure I don't forget it, even when I'm having the worst day ever and he's doing something incredibly annoying and I can't think of anything else but screaming. Those are the days I want to look back at these last couple of weeks and be thankful that I have such a wonderful guy holding me up when the crazy comes out.
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