This is an interesting idea, if you're not busy being born, you're busy dying. What does it mean to be busy being born? I think I might be. Naissance. It's a very pretty word, and an even prettier concept.
I've suddenly rekindled my affection for bob dylan.
This week went by so fast. I don't know if it was only working three days, or being busy, or what, but I was happy when I realized I would be seeing P the next day! I went to find him at his house while he was gone to Canadian Tire to get that plastic stuff you put on windows to give better insulation. I got there and started making appetizers for Vnss's party. Every time I see him now, it's one of the most special moments in my week. Hugging him, looking him in the eyes, it's all heightened. This week I didn't feel any desperation.
We had a while before going to the party so he started putting the plastic stuff on the windows and I was cooking up a storm. It felt a little bit like what it would be like to live together, it felt nice and comfortable. I have a secret wish that he will one day want to live with me, but I think I want to wait long enough to know that living together won't be the pronouncement of the end of our relationship.
I watched many movies last week, and somehow a lot of them were about marriage. People were basically all saying: 'Marriage, what's the point? What's the point of this piece of paper? Have you ever seen a successful marriage? Why jump into this thing that is basically a death sentence?' I've often secretly hoped that if I did find someone that somehow 'we would be different, we would be the couple that made it work', and all that nonsense. I think i've gotten a random dose of reality, and now I'm not really convinced about the whole marriage idea. However, I have this secret that I'm kind of ashamed of... there's a part of me that wants to be someone's wife, to be introduced 'this is my wife, adl', and to introduce my husband. It doesn't come out of possessive part of me, I don't want to be possessed... but maybe I do, a little bit. Somehow I have this hugely romantic notion that 'my wife' and 'my husband' will always be said with the tone of deep respect and affection, despite the fact that it is probably more often said with disdain.
I feel like I've strayed away from my original path. So, we get to the party and we're pretty much hanging solo. I don't think I've quite figured out how to socialize as a couple, and I'm unsure how he feels about it, but I do know that he's shyer than I thought. So we sit on the couch and talk. I forget the order of things, but I think he said 'should we go? we're just sitting here?' and I said 'let's wait five minutes and then reassess' because I felt like we hadn't given it our best shot. Then he laughs and says 'What!? What's going to happen in five minutes?' and I say 'anything could happen!' Then he says something like it's always better to do something than to do nothing, to which I respond 'you know what that book i'm reading says about that? It says that restlessness is rooted in fear' and he responds 'yeah, that's totally true. I would rather do things than sit around thinking. I always want to be doing things' Then I give him this 'are you kidding me?' look and he says, 'ok, i'm only half kidding, take what I say and cut it in half' and then I am secretly reassured. Then he goes on to say that during the christmas holiday having nothing to do made him stress about the future, his work in particular.
We then start talking about tomorrow's plan: having supper with his folks. I had spoken to his mother a few days before to invite her to come have supper at my house the next time they were in town. We started talking about my christmas holiday, about my gramma, and about my family. One thing led to another and I spilled my family history. About the divorce, the alcoholism, the tension and the alienation. All this stuff I had never discussed with P because I didn't want to define myself with it. I used to do that. I would give people the rundown of who I was within a few meetings, because I wanted them to understand why I was the way I was. I saw myself as a broken person, so I felt like I needed to explain this. With enough time out of that environment, I became a different person. When I met P, I wanted it to come up in its own time. So now that I had told his mom, I felt awkward about the idea that she knew more about my family history than he did. So we're on the couch talking and I told him about this awkward situation. Then I gave him the abridged version of my family history and he looked at me and said 'you're so brave, bb' and he kissed me. Then I told him this sort of explains why I'm always second guessing myself, overthinking things, trying to work on things, trying to be strong and brave, trying to become fearless. Then he said 'well, you must've wanted to tell someone if you told her' and I said 'oh no, everybody knows, it's no secret, I just hadn't told you'. He looks at me with a funny face, asks why and I explain the bit about not wanting to be defined by this past. He responds sweetly.
I'm happy that opening a part of myself to him was positive. I'm not sure why I was worried about it. I think I'm figuring these things out, but hopefully we'll have a lifetime to figure them out together.
“Life isn’t about finding yourself. Life is about creating yourself.” - George Bernard Shaw
Kinda looks like an older P.
Kinda looks like an older P.
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