when butterflies turn into boredom

When I first met my husband, I was nursing a broken heart. I had no desire to be in any sort of relationship unless it involved good sake and casual sex. I had a pessimistic chip on my shoulder (the result of one too many break ups) but I was kind of loving that I was back to just me again. I look back on that time in my life with a great deal of fondness that never ceases to amaze me because at the time, I thought of my life as so desperately lonely. Living in that beautiful wooden house perched on the hill between ocean and valley felt safe to me. I can still feel the smell of my bedroom in the morning. The sun would beam through the window, and regardless of how diligent I was with the cleaning, dust would shimmer across the room. It was a time punctuated by fake ugg boots, blond highlights, Grey's Anatomy and that damn miniskirt.

We met in the breezeway of the apartment building by the Sea. I'd like to say that it was love at first sight but it was nothing of the sort. I was wearing a pink one piece that flattered my legs which he honed in on and there was a directness about him that caught my attention.

We dated for a while, both of us nervous to commit. In our hesitancy, there was excitement. The newness was exhilarating and as winter turned into the following summer, we decided to slap a label on what we were doing and move in together. In the beginning, everything was thrilling. I was learning all about him and at that point, nothing he did or said was irritating because I was too busy hoping he would fall in love with me. We were always making out. Sex was still new and fun. We would whisper long into the night, trying to figure each other out, so we were both super attentive. I always felt uncomfortable, even when we were having a good time. I remember feeling like I constantly had to vomit. I was always on edge, "What did he really mean by that?" "Should I wear the dress to show off my legs or the pants that accentuate my ass?" "If I go away with him, will he think that I think he's my boyfriend?"

It was a titillating time. I wish I had appreciated it more. I think this period of adjustment took about one year.

Then things changed.

Year two of our relationship began with marriage. The intoxication gave way to contentment and gradually the sexy lingerie became sweats, the rock hard abs transformed into love handles and the brazilian wax turned into the occasional prickly set of legs.

Year three of our relationship began with year two of our marriage and it's been nothing like the years before. We're satisfied and happy with each other. We do things like go to the movies, watch our shows together and maintain a schedule for the household chores.

The truth is, we're not excited to see each other anymore because it's new.

We're excited to see each other because we can finally just be ourselves around the person we're in love with, for the first time in our lives, and it's awesome.

It feels better than sex.

So when was the exact moment things between us changed from electrifying to cozy? It was when both of us moved past our love for each other and moved into acceptance. This is not as easy as it sounds but that's an entirely different article.

You'll know when you're here when the fights aren't as often or as silly, when letting go becomes second nature and when you're able to say I love you, even when you're at your angriest, and actually mean it.

Look. There's a lot to be said for mind-blowing. It's what keeps life fun and interesting. It's what helps us learn about ourselves, what prevents us from becoming too stagnant and hardheaded. It's what propels us forward and what aids in our evolution as spiritual beings.

But when you can be with the person who can make the words routine, normal, comfortable and status quo, the best way to pass the time..then you know you're right where and with who you belong.

Butterflies or not.