"And where might we find these 'likeminded' couples?" I questioned my husband, even though he'd dropped the subject. Freshly-minted emptynesters, we were struggling with all of this alone time. Communication was never our best skill.
Neither was spontaneous sex.
We were the 1% of teen couples that got pregnant in high school and made it last this long. But now we were without the 2 people that defined our every breath for 20 years. Cisco was following his brother's path to boarding school for his senior year before deciding on a four year school. We were expecting him to be bumming around our house for another 9 months and now he's gone. Antonio is studying and playing in Argentina this year, so he's beyond gone. Cisco's decision caught us off guard.
Don't get me wrong. We were far from helicopter parents. Our parents forced us take on the responsibilities of parenting, though school was our job for the first five years. We just didn't know how to enjoy a relationship without little eyes on us. What we ate, what we wore, how we traveled, everything driven through their needs.
Example: we never made noise during sex. Ever. "You'll wake the boys," I'd say when they were little. "You'll traumatize the boys," he'd say when they got older. So we were silent. It was all we knew.
Now it was like we were dating. The first 3 months were a whirlwind of sex in the morning and dancing at night. No more cereal or soda in the pantry. Laundry every other week. Zero dirty dishes. The next 3 months we did nothing but focus on the boys. "Let's Skype Tony," I'd say. "We better get some food in the house for Cisco at Christmas," he'd say. We were constantly planning for the three days they'd be home.
Now we've settled into blah. First we'd binge watch shows together. Then we'd binge watch shows next to each other. I knew we needed to change directions when I caught him binge watching the same History Channel shows as my father. "One more episode," he'd say before bed. "Your pops is only two ahead of me."
But it didn't hit me until we both got home from work and had our comfy sweat pant couch moment before 6PM. He only worked a 1/2 day at the hospital and it was down time in my office, so I wasn't stressed. We weren't tired. We were tired!
"We should be naked or dressed up," I noted as I watched him reading his Twitter feed. I was no better as I repinned one of his mother's recipes on Pinterest.
"That's quite the range, my love," he acknowledged. "Let's ask the internet."
Our phones danced in our hands while we crowd sourced our way out of this rut.
Yoga.
Cooking class.
Hiking.
Scrapbooking.
Skydiving.
An hour later we came up for air. Nothing.
"Other than work, we either make kids or raise kids," I sighed.
"Well, I got a job, ain't changing no more diapers and I'm kinda bored of fucking you," he smirked as he braced himself for a punch to the arm.
"Your dick hasn't fucked my brains out yet, so I'm guessing I can stop wishing for that one, huh?" I responded, still punching his arm.
He just laughed as he went to the kitchen to get us some water.
"We need some friends like us to hang out with," I shouted. "Give us reason to go out."
He returned with our water and put his arm around me. "No problem. I'm sure there's other 30-something emptynesters ready to hang out to watch," he paused to check my phone. "Al Jazeera."
"So what are people our age doing in this city?" I pushed back.
"What we did in high school: fucking until they decide to have kids," he imagined out loud.
"So let's go fuck with them," I pleaded, though I wasn't quite sure what I meant.
"An open relationship?" he responded with curiosity. "Fucking people other than us?" His body language was unreadable at this moment. I couldn't tell if he was offended or totally game. He always had a better poker face than me.