Crushed

So, I'm married, right?

("Right.")

It's a very comfy marriage thus far, about 4 months in.  We coexist peacefully and snuggle deeply and enjoy each other's warmth, comfort and company.  (Unless one of us ahem is stealing the covers and aforementioned warmth.  One of us not being me.)

All cover hogs aside, I love it.  I wouldn't trade it.  For anything.  Not even....

Flirting.

Although I miss flirting.  I miss it a great deal.  Oh sure, us married fuddy duddies flirt and sweet talk each other, but it's in such an obvious, mushy mushy way.  I do love that too...but what I'm referring to here is that flirting experience where you don't know what's going to happen next and you're still trying to read between the lines of a cute boy's niceties, and the "what ifs" are flowing steadily hidden behind shy smiles and uneven heart beats.

I didn't recognize how much I missed it until I dreamed of it last night.

It helps that the cute boy flirting with me was Justin Timberlake.  I woke up all atwitter.  And with a mild crush on Justin Timberlake that didn't really exist before.  (See?  Do you see the tricks my mind can play?)

Then I rolled over and snuggled my very own cute boy.  Talk about the best of both worlds.