Valentine's Day is here, and I'm having some stress. Of the non-romantic variety. This morning, the hubby woke me up to tell me one of the cats is marking some new things in new areas. Places that blew my mind all over the place. It was the kind of 4 am wake-up call that leads to mini-nervous breakdowns.
The husband went to work, and I stayed in bed. Awake. Thinking about cat pee, the new tumors showing up on the dog, and yesterday's ice skating date.
Yes, the hubby took me ice skating yesterday, which was very nice of him. We pulled into the park and saw this.
We were barely even through the gates. Not good. Cars lined both sides of the road as we drove more. Granted, it was beautiful out, which had been my plan all along. Maybe with temperatures in the 50s, no one would be ice skating in in the park's recreational complex.
I started around this point to say, "I don't want to go. Let's go home."
I don't know. Just felt off, I guess. Too many people, too much social-time, so many children.
The hubby wouldn't hear of it. He found the nearest parking lot and parked. He got out of the car and started walking, without me. I didn't pout long because I could tell he meant business. I got out and walked a little behind him, my "let's go" sentiments growing louder as we got closer to the building with the rink in it.
Of course, he didn't have to try very hard to get me to catch up and go along with it. I tried standing there but he just sort of left me, knowing I would follow. I felt better once we got into the building. We got skates. There were quite a few people but not as many as the other time we went ice skating however many years ago.
For some reason, they gave us hockey skates.
I guess we look like hockey people.
Sure.
I should mention that the one other time we went ice skating, that was the hubby's first time. He had never been ice skating. I, on the other hand, had been one of those kids who loved to skate. We lived in a tiny town and the firemen would spray water all over the large lot behind the fire station when it got cold enough (we lived in Minnesota, so it was around a lot of the year). There was no booth, no skate rental, no people. It was just for whoever to come and go as they pleased.
I remember going every day and no one being there but me, and I'd skate for hours. Whipping all around. Backwards, forwards, faster and faster. I loved it. I felt like it they made the rink just for me.
Well, fast forward 20 years and getting back on the ice is not how I remembered it. My body and mind do not communicate like they used to do. I did okay when the hubby and I went skating the first time. It wasn't great, but I felt like I wish I could do it every day. Which, of course, I did not. I had work and whatever else back then.
This time, skating was even worse somehow. I felt like I was going to fall 99% of the time but didn't. There was never that confidence that I had, that joy, that freedom. Little desire stirred in me to come back like last time.
It didn't help that there were so many little kids who were like I once had been - they skated so fast, back and forth in the crowd, no concern for anyone else. Unlike what I remember, they also fell ALL the time. Some were trying to take each other down (these would be several groups of little boys. Shocking, I know).
The hubby skated for about 15 minutes before hanging up his skates. They fit him wrong and his ankles were killing him. I felt terrible about it. He did not have a good time.
I don't know why I kept skating. I guess I thought it was kind of enjoyable still. I like the cold, the feel of the ice, the speed even though I wasn't very fast. I kept trying to skate to open areas as the crowd moved in strange, ever changing packs of people. I kept skating over to the sidelines to ask my husband is he wanted to go yet. He always told me to go ahead and skate a little longer, like he was fine just being there for me. He sat in the bleachers and just watched the rink.
Where am I?
Who knows?
Probably in the middle of a herd of children.
It was almost like I was being punked.
That little sh*t in the yellow shirt is trying to take me out there, but really, every single one in that photo was an obstacle in some sort of extreme, living course that I didn't know I had agreed to skate.
My plan was to not kill a child. And then to leave early. Check marks next to both of those goals. I actually lost count of how many times I would awkwardly thrust my hands out as children all around me fell, because if they ended up spinning towards me, I was going to catch them. Even though I knew realistically, that would not go well.
I guess I thought it was that or run them over, which I did not want to do, no matter how annoying some of them were.
It was definitely a loss of an afternoon. I felt terrible that our early Valentine's Day date was so sucky. Why have things been so off lately? I don't know. One weekend, we're sick. The next, exhausted. It's one thing after another.
We've never been big on Valentine's Day as it stands on the calendar. We try to do something around then. I guess since we tell each other we love one another all day every day and we spend basically all of our time together, we don't really try to outdo ourselves. He used to send flowers. The pets started eating those, so we've stopped that tradition. I used to get him a card, picked out special. Give him a present of some sort. I guess somewhere along the way I stopped doing that since I'm always picking up things I think he'll like. Even if I try to get him something for a special occasion, he'll end up getting it early. It's over a month until his birthday and he's already gotten what I was going to give him.
He still does the candy, which is good. Especially since I've been crabby basically all of 2011 so far. I've already been through one box of chocolates, and after the ice skating fiasco, we stopped at the grocery on our way home and the hubby got me another one.
I think the thing that I'm thinking about today is still that, despite all the exterior crap, I can say without any hesitation that I love my husband today more than I ever have. Even more than I did on our wedding day.
I could list all the stuff he does, all the things he is, all the ways he makes our relationship better. Somehow, though, those things just don't seem like not enough. They aren't what make me love him. I'd love him even if he didn't shovel the front walk when it snowed, even if he wasn't the smartest person I know, even if all of what I know about him were to change. If the things that he wanted, that he was interested in, that he had planned for our life all went out the window, I'd continue to be here.
I still want to spend every day with him. I still listen to him snore at night and am so happy that he's next to me. It's comforting after all the nights before we were married, when we were apart. I need him more than I can articulate, and it's scary, and infuriating, and incredible. To have something like this is still miraculous to me.
So, for Valentine's Day, I don't have anything to hand him when he walks through the door. I haven't even taken a shower today. Why is this man married to me?
What can I do, what words will make this day special?
Honey, for Valentine's Day this year, I have one thing to say to you.
"Let's never go ice skating again."
Because even when we don't use the words "I love you", we say it in a thousand other ways every single day.
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