I haven't felt lovesick in years. Years. But here I am, right back in the thick of it: feeling the feelings of longing and intrigue that I remember so well from days-gone-by. A sense of connectedness; my time away from Squeeze spent with a twinge in my heart, wishing we were together. I remember this so well from our dating years and early marriage; feeling like I couldn't get enough of him; feeling like he was the best of everything; waking up and watching him sleep and feeling awe of his presence in my life; drinking him in.
I think this connection was put on the shelf after the birth of our first child, and probably months before that, with the slowing of my pregnant body and mind. My connection was now with my baby and as a mother, that intensity was in him and through him. He (my baby) was the person I longed to be with. Squeeze was on the outside of that connection: I remember reading aloud a passage of a parenting book, which stated that fathers often feel like outsiders to the passionate inner-circle, or connectedness, of mother and baby. It resonated strongly with Squeeze at the time. I remember feeling pity for him, but with no desire to remove myself from it.
That baby-entwined intensity has faded through time, and very naturally I think. I am well aware that I did not have this obsessed relationship with my secondborn. Not that I love him any less, but...that...it is different; and my feelings towards my firstborn are different even from that first lovestruck year of babyhood. I was smitten, and consumed.
But now, and I write this with a drowsy smile on my face, I feel as if I have come back full circle, back to, dare I say it so publicly; my lover.
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