Six Months Later

Six months ago today, Mr. RH walked into my life for the third (and last time) as a stranger.  I was wearing spandex pants and a push-up bra, just in case I ran into him.  I can't remember what he was wearing, but I know for a fact it was dressy, just in case he ran into me.

Since that day, my life has been The After Story.  There was everything Before, and now a new chapter has started.

Sometimes, I forget that we haven't known each other forever.  That I haven't been there for every moment and every milestone.  I forget sometimes that his family might view me as "that girl he's dating" and not as the Great Love of His Life, like I see him.

We spend a lot of time talking about The Future and what it might entail.... and equal amounts of time talking about how we are NOT going to rush through the right-now because the right-now is precious and awesome in its own right.


We decorated our first tree together last night and, despite the fact that I was quite ill with a cold (with a side of straight-up bitchy!), it was exciting to me to think of the next dozen Christmases together.  Of traditions and the future and of buying something to replace this white-on-white Christmas tree.  Don't get me wrong, it's beautiful and cute but... homegirl has distinct taste in trees and this is distinctly different. 

 On the other hand, this will probably end up being one of the most special and memorable trees we've ever assembled together.  Because it is our first.

Six months, in the grand scheme of life, seems like no time at all.  Barely a drop in the bucket.  Only 1.9% of my life lived, thus far.  And yet.

Most days, I feel like a crazy person.  I feel out of control and like NO ONE must understand this feeling.  That my heart leaps out of my chest when he walks into a room and my head can't even wrap itself around the wonder that is him.

Other days, it feels like the most natural thing in the world.  Me and him, him and me.  Us together.  As natural as breathing, but as exhilarating as jumping off a cliff.

Six Months.  Not a lot of time in the grand scheme of things, but plenty of time for the heart.  Who knows what the next 6, 12, 24, or 104 months will bring?  Not me.  But I am definitely excited to hang around and find out.

{This is where I was going to subtly word-trick you into thinking I was preggers.  Because everybody (no, just me?) loves pictures of me and babies.  But then I remembered that I'm hopped up on cold medicine and that I'm not as clever as I should be at 9 am.  To clarify: despite the fatface in Picture #1, I am indeed NOT preggers.  FYI.  Bring on the wine!}

Mr. RH:  I'll take approximately 100 more six-months with you.  Lots of babies (future), lots of fun times.  Wine (asap, preferably).  Laughter and tears (more of the former, less of the latter.  But then again, with me it's more 50/50.)  Lots of finding our own way through life.  Together.

Happy 6 Months.  May the next 600 months be just as amazing as the first 6.