Don't Give Up On Us, Baby

I think I painted things too bleakly. Chris and I were never "not talking," as in refusing to talk; we just couldn't seem to get in touch. Now he has a new phone and we have talked in person. We agree that there's too much love and history between us to waste. Right now he just has to work like a mad demon and everything in his life has to be about food and wine. I care about these things (well, food anyway; I never was much of a oenophile), but can no longer match his level of obsession. Meanwhile, I'm undergoing the one of the most monumental events of my life and, while supportive, he doesn't have a lot of time or attention for that. At the moment, the only way we can forge ahead together is to forge ahead apart. Not living apart, neither of us wants that, but having a lot more space between us than the average couple, with room for Grey and Chris' people and the 8000-lb baby restaurant. We miss each other. If we hadn't been together for so long, we mightn't be able to do it. And who knows, maybe we won't. But we think our bond is tight enough that we can.

In bed this morning, I sang him this song. Sometimes cheesiness works for us when nothing else does. I love how this has all the greatest tropes of '70s videos: fuzzy sets, double exposures, emoting closeups, and gratuitous nature shots! (I also can't help but picture him staking Reggie Nalder through the heart, but that's just me.)