StacyCelia.com

I went to my friend Laura’s bach party this weekend. Great time. Heather and I drove up to Milwaukee on Saturday morning, went to a brewery, partied with new faces and toasted to Laura’s upcoming marriage that we all know is going to be perfection. Lots to say about the weekend. I could tell you about the raunchy activity we all did, the 10,000 calories I consumed (wrote the prior blog way too soon), the fun stories that were told, the vodka tonics that Laura thought she drank, or about the gut-wrentching envy I felt towards Laura and her sister (and maid of honor) Tori…but instead, the real story of the weekend that I would like to share developed at the its end.

The best part about going away for the weekend is coming home. I love my home and returning to it gives me an instant dose of gratitude for the life that I live. I walked in around 1 PM today. Jace was golfing with some friends, so I had a couple hours more to miss him. I threw my bags on the floor in our room and immediately noticed evidence that Jason missed me too. It was a love note…undoubtedly one of his best.

When I plopped on the couch and turned on the television, ESPN came on. I can’t explain it (but of course I’ll try) what it feels like to know and trust someone like I do my man, Jason. It is just ESPN but it’s also an example of coming home to my partner and best friend. It’s comfort. He’s everywhere in this home that we share. I’ve never known someone the way I know him. I can literally guess what he did while I was away just based on the clues around our one bedroom condo. The best part about going away is coming back to my life with Jason. (And also all of the text messages that he sends while I’m gone. I lock all the cute ones. I don’t lose them until the phone is broken next.) Last night he wrote that he loved me “more than anything in the whole wide world.” “Even Lou Malnadi’s?” I asked. “More than anything,” he assured.

I’ve never felt so greeted and welcomed by an empty home in my life. When two people share so much of everything together, they really can be together in solitude. I’ve never felt so loved in my entire life. Everyday even more than the last. On the way home today, Heather asked me what I would blog about from this weekend. I told her that I wasn’t sure. But when I came home, it became clear what I wanted to remember most about this weekend…the underlying love story.

This entry was posted on Monday, May 4th, 2009 at 2:55 am and is filed under And even the kitchen sink. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.