Getting Real About Mornings
Woke up at 6 AM sharp today, like always. You think couples magically rise together? Nah. I stumbled over Ben’s gym bag he left right in the hallway again. Classic.
First thing we did: Argued over who forgot the damn toothpaste. Both of us pointing fingers, neither willing to check the empty tube. Ended up using salt. Yeah, that sucked.
Breakfast wasn’t some cute Instagram shoot either. Scrambling eggs while Ben nearly burned the toast. I flipped his eggs onto his plate maybe a little too hard. He gave me the look. You know the one.
Here’s the normal stuff nobody films:
- Wiped toothpaste spit off the mirror. Again.
- Stuffed overflowing laundry into the machine, wondering whose turn it was to buy detergent.
- Noticed Ben took the last clean sock. Had to wear mismatched ones. Didn’t even apologize.
The Outside World Ain’t Always Cute
Took a walk later. Ben tried to hold my hand. Sometimes it’s easy. Today, I hesitated. Saw that older couple staring hard. Not mean, just… looking too long. We just dropped hands. Without saying anything. Walked side-by-side looking straight ahead until they passed.
Went grocery shopping. Ben grabbed my favorite snacks. Felt warm inside. Then at checkout, the cashier lady saw Ben’s tiny scratch near his eye – actually happened fixing the fence – and gave me this look. Like I did it. My stomach dropped. Ben just paid quickly and said “Thanks” real flat. Didn’t confront her. Just got outta there.
The quiet moments hit harder: Sitting together on the couch later, not talking, but both thinking about that stupid checkout look. You can see it in each other’s eyes.
Real Love is Laundry & Forgetting Things
Folded that laundry later. Found Ben’s missing sock in my pant leg. Tossed it at his head. He laughed. Asked if wanted takeout. We ended up ordering pizza. Sat on the floor eating it straight from the box, watching trashy TV.
Had a dumb argument about whose turn it was to take the trash out. Ended up doing it together. Stood on the porch for a second looking at the stars, shoulders bumping. No big speeches. Just being there.
Final thought before bed: Real isn’t the highlight reel. It’s bickering about the wet towel on the bed (always him!). It’s the silent understanding when the world feels shitty. It’s finding that dumb sock and still asking if they want pineapple on the pizza. That’s the life happening. Every single day. Even when it’s boring. Especially when it’s boring. You won’t see it in those magazines, but damn, it’s real. Now I’m washing breakfast dishes. Again.
