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Tourist in your Own State(Of Marriage)

*I was on vacay so..... there was a pause to the blog last week* My husband and I took a mini-vacay to Savannah and the Georgia Sea Islands (Tybee). It was great. It was also much needed. It was the shot in the arm we needed. No, we aren't troubled. Just tired.  We did a tour like actual tourist. We dipped our toes in the sand. We laughed. We made love. We ate a shit-ton of seafood. We danced. He even kissed me and dipped me under the moonlight in Forsyth Park. He called me his "girlfriend" and we flirted like we were a newly, minted couple. He held my hand and traced the lines down my fingers. He put them between his lips slowly and kissed them. He grabbed my butt in public and didn't care. I rubbed his bald head and didn't mind the beads of sweat. We ordered in greasy take-out and ate it in the bed. We stayed up late. We listened to the music we wanted as loud as we wanted. We didn't care about appearances. I barely wore any makeup. He didn't ...