On Thank You.

We are so incredibly lucky. You ever get that feeling? You just look around and think, "FUCK. This is good. I am doing it right." That's sort of what my days have felt like lately, and - because I can't help it and this is how I am - I've been trying to take note of what makes me feel that way.

Again, if anyone knows the source of this glorious image, we'd love to know.

Now, bear with me here, because this isn't fully formed in my brain, but what it has to do with is gratitude.

It's tricky to explain, because along with the overwhelming gratitude I feel for how good things are, it is also because of gratitude that I feel that way.

Listen guys, I don't mean to be a dick about this, but I might just be the happiest fucking married woman on the planet. I don't mean to diminish your happiness or really even brag, it's just that things are good around our house. And I think it says a lot about our culture's feelings about marriage and relationships that I kind of have to feel apologetic for saying so. But the fact remains: Rye and I really like each other and are not shy about showing it.

In trying to figure out the recipe to this particular secret sauce, I realized something that I'd never noticed before: we say thank you a lot. Like, a lot. Big things, little things, dinner, dishes, orgasms, favors, glasses of water. Everything seems like fair game for a 'thanks, love.' This is not creepy or pathological, it's just a habit that we unknowingly formed pretty early on. What it's done is made it clear that both of our efforts are always appreciated.

The lengths that that kind of transparency can take you are so amazing. It makes our communication more open and fluid. It makes our sex more adventurous. It makes dinner taste better. It makes trying something new that I may be nervous about, but know Rye is dying to give a go, the easiest decision in the world. Because I know that he is grateful. And I trust that he knows the same for me. It seems so simple, and yet it feels like the basis for having the best fucking partner in the world.

I can't help but feel that any time we feel a little frustrated with our partners, feel like we're not getting what we want and worrying they may feel the same way, maybe we should just fucking say, "Thanks for getting that laundry going." Or, "Thanks for stopping to pick dinner up." Or, "Fuck, I really needed to come. Thank you."

It's certainly not a cure-all, but it's a little step along the way. Thank each other. Thank each other hard. For hours.