My husband, Fatty, is not a gushy type of man. I sometimes get to feeling unappreciated, because he is sparing with his praise. Fatty doesn't often speak of why he loves me. I'm rarely told that I am a good mother, or partner. Most times when we go out together, my careful preparations go unnoticed, or at least Fatty seems not to notice. He doesn't mention anything. He's not one to compliment me automatically.
On the weekend, Fatty and I went to a party together (which, by the way, was LOTS of fun - thanks everyone for your good wishes! I danced to 'Dancing Queen' with my friend KP and we thought all our Christmases had come at once. And Motherkitty, I did wear purple eyeshadow!). There were people there we hadn't seen for a long time. We mingled, mostly separately, for most of the evening, occasionally meeting up with a smile and a touching of hands. Fatty looked surprisingly dashing in his spangly shirt. I glanced across, every now and then, as Fatty talked and laughed with friends and acquaintainces. He wasn't gesticulating wildly, or loudly commanding the attention of several people at once. My husband has no artifice. He is simply a calm, friendly, genuine man.
Later, as we lay on our backs in bed, discussing the night's events, Fatty said something that made me realise that love doesn't need to be dissected, in order to prove it exists.
Fatty said, " I'm glad you're my wife."
"What do you mean?", I asked. " Why are you glad I'm your wife?"
"At the party, when I looked for you, and I saw you, I just thought, 'That's my wife'. And I was happy that you were my wife."
Although Fatty didn't explain himself further, I knew what he meant. Because at the party, when I sought him out with my eyes, I found him with a sense of finding home. I am always drawn to the way he looks, but more than that, I love the way he is. There was no-one at that party who could make me feel that way. There never is.
I guess I am someone who likes to articulate my feelings. It's just the way I am. But I forget sometimes that, whether or not it is defined, love is love. It doesn't always need explaining.