a husband with a love of order

This is the best thing in my home.

As you can see from how active I am on this app, I looove things. I like to think it’s not pure materialism- because I love my butter stick squeeze toy and my mother’s earrings from college and the paper mache birthday cake Jemima got me and my diary from my teenage trip to Cuba where I first French kissed a boy just as much as I love any new designer goods- actually, so much more. But this diffuse passion, the anthropomorphic qualities I can imbue a Christmas card with, mean I’m collecting and collecting, and suddenly I find myself toppling under the weight of my own attachments (and, more literally, under a pile of threadbare bike shorts- they can weigh a lot en masse!)

Lu was away for awhile and I turned feral and teenage. He’s back, and spent yesterday on the book shelf. He got “little folders for your little papers.” And today he brought my closet to heel. Suddenly, like a tween girl seeing The Limited Too for the first time, I was falling back in love with all my stuff- and with the little grin he does when he presents a newly tidied space 😭

Last you think this is one-sided: I know that his love language is me editing his emails and acting like I want to watch a bunch of old Stone Roses videos. So that’s what I’m gonna do.

For as long as he’ll let me.