"Excuse me. I need some space."

I came across this quote, so nicely put by a two-year-old, while reading my friend's blog, Wifeytini. It has stuck with me since then because, well, first of all I think it's pretty adorable and hilarious that a toddler needs some space, and secondly, because I've finally reached the point where I need mine as well.

As you probably know by now, the husband and I don't have your average dating story. Our long distance romance didn't consist of going on physical dates, it consisted of scheduling Skype dates that took into account a seven-hour time difference. Instead of meeting once a week at a restaurant nearby and then saying goodbye for the evening, we were flying across an ocean and meeting for two weeks, one month, or even three at a time ... and then saying goodbye for the next few. That said, we never went through that phase of spending a few hours together here and there. No, we were spending some pretty good chunks of time together. And when we were together, we were together. I'm talking joined-at-the-hip, not-letting-you-out-of-my-sight together. I mean, wouldn't you be that way too if you only got to see the love of your life every three months or so?

This trend continued when I moved to Amsterdam. We were so happy to finally live together that we spent every available minute in the same room. If he was in the kitchen cooking dinner, then I was in the kitchen helping him cook, chatting about my day, or doing who-knows-what ... but I was in that kitchen with him. If I was sitting on the couch, then he was sitting on the couch next to me, likely with the side of his body pressed right up against mine. I think the word inseparable just about sums up what the husband and I have been, whenever possible, for as long as we've known each other. But, as Bob Dylan so aptly put it, "the times, they are a-changin'."

Just about one month ago, I decided to retire to bed before the husband and read my book. Now I realize that this sounds like a completely normal activity, but for me it wasn't. For me, it was the first time I had actively decided to do something that didn't involve my man even though I could have chosen to be with him. A few days later, I attended a ladies-only social event, leaving the husband home on his own for a few hours. And now, well, taking the time to do things on my own is becoming a more frequent occurrence.

The thing is, I'm not so sure how I feel about reaching this new point in our relationship. On one hand, I realize that it is healthy to have a life outside of your couple, and believe me, I am happy to create one of my own. Taking the initiative to do things for myself is increasing my overall happiness, not to mention that it's also boosting my confidence, leading me to make more friends, and forcing me to be more active in finding my place in Amsterdam. On the other hand, it makes me a bit sad that the pressing urge I had to soak up every minute with my man is fading. Maybe it just means that we're settling into married life, but it's taking some adjustment to realize that spending time together is now the norm, not a novelty.

But this is what I was waiting for, right? I mean, I was anxious for this "common life" (as the husband likes to call it) to start for so long, and now it is here. I am fortunate to wake up to the love of my life every morning, and kiss him goodnight every evening. And what's more, I'm fortunate enough to have such an abundance of time with him that it's perfectly fine to need some space. I think I just need some more time to get used to this concept.