So it’s been three months, as of January 2. Since we met we have been through the circumstantial ringer. Dire circumstances became even more dire. Survival came down to a single rope not breaking, a last lone life raft having no holes. The track record of my own life kept me in a perpetual state of anxiety. He, on the other hand was a sleeping Christ in a row boat, not because of faith but because of the simple and resounding fact that at some point, he’d been through worse.
I told him early on, “I bet we’re going to have one of those lives that are really hard since our relationship is so good.” The words of a poor, cynical weatherman. I’ve been meaning to take them back. So far it hasn’t proven true though it may look that way sometimes. The reality is that life is propelled by choices, and whatever yin/yang mythical appearance it may take, it’s really just the harmonious nature of life that creates such an illusion, like the translucent magic of a school of moving fish.
The personal journey I’ve been through is enormous. So far I’ve managed to remember anything that anyone has ever said about relationships. How to spot a good or bad one, how to keep or abandon it, etc. I’ve sized it all up against my own. All of this created a circus mirror that I insisted on using to observe our relationship rather than my own eyes. Looking back I don’t know if that was a mistake or just the inevitable. At the time we met he had virtually no place to go, at least no neutral place that wasn’t condemned or full of ghosts. And though my house with its perversions and distortions and exaggerations and cramped, trick doorways was no place for either of us, I preferred my fun house over his haunted one.
We spent a lot of time being gypsies. A friend’s house, a restaurant, the Y, a free wi-fi zone, back to my house (briefly as possible), driving around, walking around, pack a bag, back to the friend’s house. If I were, oh, say seven years younger it might’ve been fun. But if I was ever more painfully aware of how few gains I’d made in my beginning stint of adulthood it was then. Not that supporting your boyfriend is really something I planned on worrying about, but living like a vagabond on $600 a month while trying to figure out your next move just about quadrupled my exasperation once he showed up. It sucks to be in a place where you can’t help yourself, let alone someone else. It wasn’t that I couldn’t do anything, and what I did have it gave me a thrill each time to share. Love is also such that you always want to do more. And when you can’t do what so many people seem to simply do it can stress you out a little. So I was stressed out a little.
In November I left my job of three years, swiftly as circumstances could not afford sentimentality. I started a new job at a call center, a flim flam bullshit customer service job at a staffing agency. I stretched out the limbs of my mind and was grateful. $2 more and twice the hours, peace of mind and sitting down. The plan was to literally have a place of our own. Ahead of being ahead of ourselves, I sought to be on my own by the end of the year, a place where he would be welcome 100% of the time and not subject to the fickleness of friends or fairweather philanthropy. Wouldn’t you know the closer the end got to my sight the harder things got, go figure. But I stayed focused. And after some weeping and gnashing of teeth, and a couple maimed relationships later I made it to dry land, and I was more or less at peace.
Meanwhile, while I was seeking a victory, there was a relationship going on. The first few weeks were a jaw dropping melee of discovery and just plain old fashioned glee, like Christmas and Hannukah combined.
Omg he’s expressive!
Omg he wants to talk about our relationship!
Omg we think/feel/act/believe/eat/talk/hurt/heal/love/save/plan/question/challenge the exact…same…WAY
Omg he likes/loves/tolerates/sees THAT about me!
Omg I was mad at him and now I’m not!
Omg he’s quality time, QUALITY TIIIIME!!
Omg he listens and I haven’t repeated myself since last Tuesday!
And then what would life be without a few roadblocks.
Oh crap, he’s effing crazy.
Oh crap, he wants me to be all girly and stuff.
Oh crap, he uses Jesus Christ as a curse word.
Oh crap, he hates/sees/is grossed out by THAT about me.
Oh crap, he can’t be what he wants to be b/c he has a record.
Oh crap, he’s disgusting.
Oh crap, he fucked up… AGAIN.
Oh crap, he has three kids that he actually wants to SEE.
Oh crap he wants to have sex all…the…time.
There was a lot of questioning about whether or not we would make it, if the bad was truly more weighty than the good. There was really no reason for me to do this, other than the fact that it seemed like that’s what a lot of other people did, and those people were happier and more successful– or at least that’s what people told me. There was a lot of talk of “red flags.” “Uh oh, that’s another red flag!” When you find someone who isn’t teeming with red flags, let me know. I know some people ain’t good for you, but what I’m finding out about life is that you just have to live it. As much as I’ve racked my brain over the last few months over practically everything, it has not endowed me with any kind of powers to live longer, faster, or with any more knowledge than what I have. I have been dethroned as the queen of prevention. I guess I’m more like a duke or something now, I’m not completely crazy. The only way to prevent any kind of calamity would be to un-meet him. And don’t think for a minute I didn’t try.
What’s funny is that I’m really not doing anything super drastic other than having a life. And life, with other people, creates problems– or as we like to call them at work, “opportunities.” Even more funny is that my once smooth sea now consumed with waves, is to him a lively, welcoming calm after a typhoon, perfect for fishing. The combination is a reminder that we probably belong together. As long as he’s there saying “let’s go!” I’ll be right there saying “wait, wait!” And we’ll fit right into the nature of all things. The good thing about our divergent backgrounds is that we each totally smoked the meeting of our respective families, simply on the advantage of being completely and totally different from one another and good for each other at the same time.
Despite all my fretting and second guessing, and outside trials that essentially don’t matter, every good draw that enticed me to the relationship has pretty much happened. I think this is an encouragement to trust my instincts and values. And this is us on low, on unleaded, on vibrate. We’ve only just begun and all that. It’s only been three months. Sometimes it feels like more, sometimes it feels like three months. We’ve pretty much spent every single day together since we met, with few exceptions. We both know it’s too fast but it’s all seemed a little unavoidable so we accept it. Trust me, I’ve been like one of those cartoons on a runaway train putting both feet on the engine door and pulling on the lever, but it’s no use. More for the sake of everyone else, really. Fast is both our bents.
If I’ve managed to say anything at all right now I’m glad. It’s not really a play by play like I planned in my mind. I didn’t know how I was going to call people out without it turning into a libel situation. Time has made me diplomatic.
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