Passing each other as we shift through the motions of our everyday a neglect I never imagined would happened to us.
A couple holding hands. Skin touching skin – a faint memory that is nothing but a realisation that the change is greater than I thought.
I save the image of the couple holding hands in my mind, something I can torture myself with later as I tear my relationship apart and question it’s identity and what it stands for now.
The change feels like a current somehow, the movement has unsettled everything and we can’t seem to get out.
You watch as I leave the room baby on my hip pulling my baggy top below my chest, a revealing state that once caught your eye has become a series of routine. I leave my top to hang without a care, my babies hands pinching and scratching at my breasts. I feel less attractive but weirdly satisfied with my new found carelessness. Perhaps I was uptight before?
Our eyes meet as we recognise the chaos of nighttime unfold in front of us, a nod of approval as one of us holds baby and the other convincing the bigger one that sleep is magic.
And that was that – our light bulb moment.
You catch my eye as I bend over to pick up the pile of toys left on the carpet and at that moment I felt like that couple holding hands. My skin no where near yours but that connection created a togetherness I had forgotten about.
I nurture this change like a new relationship with more depth and meaning – less touching but more meaning!