Last night, I placed a double chocolate brownie (along with a napkin and a tall glass of milk) on the counter for Husband. As he hugged me and kissed my forehead (as a thank you), I think we were both reminded of our love for each other. (Not that we forgot, but as life passes by in a blur, it’s easy to not think of it momentarily.) 

We are now in our house–well, for the most part–and it feels so wonderful. Though we had our own apartment together before we got married, we haven’t lived alone since we got married. (And yes, I just realized how crazy that is!) We cooked dinner together last night in our very own kitchen. Husband grilled while I made French fries and baked the brownies for dessert. It was soothing, really. 

The past two mornings, since we’ve been in our house, I’ve been able to ready myself for work in peace. I’ve been able to walk around the house in my pajamas, my hair a complete mess, while the light began to peek through the windows. (Before, I made sure I was fully clothed before I stepped foot out of our bedroom [at my in-law's house], just in case my brother-in-law was in the hallway.) I feel lighter, happier; I can see that Husband does, too.