Red Lobster

Adoring husband from bathroom line
 at Mayan temple on honeymoon.

Yesterday was my 4 year wedding anniversary.
We went to Red Lobster.  There was a tank full of the poor suckers in the lobby.
I wished we were at Sea World instead.  I didn't want to be eating them, or anything else.
I just wanted to watch them, and hear the tank water fall into itself.

When Andrew and I first started dating I told him,
"I'm not normal when it comes to food.  It's not fun for me to sit down and eat a big meal, so you'll probably never see me do it.  I do my best, and sometimes I struggle.  But I just want you to know, you don't have to do anything...just know.  I am not normal. O.K.?"
He said, "OK."
He didn't try to convince me of my beauty or educate me on nutrition.  He just said O.K.

But we're a couple, and couples go out to restaurants.  That's what they do.

getting close enough to mirror for a shave -
resourceful guy

The couple next to us is celebrating 51 years of marriage.  The man is proud of this.  I don't know how she feels.  He does all the talking.  They are old, and their hands shake.
I stare out the window.  Thank God we are sitting by a window.
I've gotta let this wave pass so I can try to be present.
Crazy kites fly across the street at the park.  It is really windy.  I point out each one and make him look.  He doesn't find it very interesting.
I wish he'd take charge.  For once.  I want that.  He does it at home all the time.  I wait for him to dominate the conversation as he does my oil change regiment or how I load the dishwasher.  He doesn't do it though.  He is giving me the space I asked for in the beginning.

I always blush when I order at restaurants.  Because I don't want to be ordering at all.
I order some lame soup and salad thing, even though there is plenty of good seafood.
When the food comes, he shares his lobster with me.  It's good.

The Lydia/anxiety wave started mounting this morning when he suggested we go out to lunch.  It is nearly passed now.  My tunnel vision is fading from it's pinpoint outside the window and I can see my husband.  He leaves a 40% tip.  His hands are thick and grey with callouses.  I reach out and hold them.  Just like I did during our wedding ceremony so I wouldn't faint.  I don't need him to fix things for me, but I'm glad he's here.  Immensely glad, and I try to tell him this through my fingertips.

Honeymoon close-up