Discovered this picture of the two of us, before the child was even a zygote in the subconsciousness. When sleep was plenty and lust was a given. When worry lines, and grey hair, and superfluous weight and superfluous scraps had not yet crept between us.
When we had one car between us, and one loan. And two jobs that barely covered expenses from payday to payday. When we had no designer labels, and when we actually saved up to vacation at nearby hillresorts. When we rushed every morning to catch the 7.45 Borivili local and reached home deadbeat by eight or nine pm every night, and yet had time enough and more for each other.
When we could look at each other across the room and know exactly what the other was thinking, and when our conversations didnt revolve around the child or the business or the loans. When we could shut the bedroom door and shut the rest of the world out and not care. When we slept curled up against each other, and rued the fact that the morning came too soon. When we didnt battle our individual demons of anger and hurt and pain on our own, but shared it with each other.
When we were too busy in each other to let the world creep in and destroy us. When we were happy. I would trade everything we have today for a shot at those days again. Except of course, the child. That is the most precious gift you have given me, and I have given you.
We’ve come a long way baby. We need to go back and pick up what we dropped somewhere along the way.