I remember many years ago, before Dave and I moved in together, my friend Lex telling me that once we lived together we just wouldn’t send each other lovely text messages any more, they’d all be practical and boring. Of course I didn’t believe her. What a depressing thought, how could it possibly be true? Dave & I sent each other messages all day long telling each other how much we loved each other or that we couldn’t wait to see each other at the weekend, to make big plans for our future or just to chat about inane rubbish and make each other smile.
It doesn’t take a genius though to realise that Lex was right – our declarations of love soon turned to messages about bills, milk and what time my train home was due in. It didn’t mean we loved each other any less, it just meant things were different now – we had practical stuff to deal with and it wasn’t as necessary to send messages detailing how much we missed each other when we’d be in each other’s arms in bed every night.
More than a decade down the line and we rarely send each other those messages which make your heart skip a beat with excitement or raise a warm glow. Is it that there is no need or just that it doesn’t occur to us to do so?
Maybe I should text him now & tell him how much I love his ginger face.
(As an aside, in writing this post I’ve also discovered that Dave & I never have our photo taken, just the two of us – so that’s something to try and rectify this year!)