Sunday, October 28, 2007
Suffocation, Merci Beaucoup
Today was the first day in a long, long time that I felt like I couldn't find a single shred of myself in any moment. I suppose it has been building lately...re-reading my last few blogs I can see my overwhelm at all that is unfolding right now. But today, at about three o'clock, I suddenly yearned for the world to disappear, including L, and just leave me and my MacBook alone.
Then to my right, a shopping cart came whizzing past me with a grown man balanced atop it on his belly. It was he, the one that I call Babe, and I could not help but burst into a fit of giggles. My mother, present for the antics, was aghast. "How could I ever get sick of this man?" I thought. So, I refined my yearning to me, my MacBook and L - my inscrutable life partner.
How did this happen to me? I am so stupidly happy with this man. It is boggling. He put outfits together for me today while we shopped (oh, our one day off in the week, how divine!) and then we went and looked at houses. This man likes doing practically every single thing that I like doing and not because he is trying to impress me, but because he actually LIKES doing these things! Yet, he remains amazingly masculine. And funny. Watching him with the kids at school is amazing. They adore him. He gets them, because, let's face it, he is the kind of adult who rides shopping carts on his belly. Plus, he is sexy. Even as our honeymoon phase wears out and our seven month approaches (and this ain't no normal seven months...this is seven months of living and working together every single day) he still stops whatever he is doing when I get naked to watch with complete and total focus. His dimples deepen and I am in love all over again. It is sick, I know. Even reading this must make the cynics cry out "it will all come crashing down on them sooner or later!". Perhaps they would be right if they weren't so wrong.
Somewhere along the line I had started to join the ranks in believing that Love Like This didn't exist. I had started to wonder if I wouldn't just find some middle ground with a lovely man that was a 'good match in many ways if not in all ways' and settle comfortably with that. It would grant me the individuality that I was so yearning for today at three o'clock and represent the idea that becoming One was an unhealthyily codependent goal. Both very important ideals for a young feminist like myself. It would have been a fine life, had that been what happened...
But OH how much better is it to be drowned in someone's love and in your love for them! Pa-shaw, I say to those who shake their heads in concern! It may not be healthy, it may not be safe, I dunno, but it is ALIVE. It is the stuff made of the greatest ballads and the most profound art. To be okay all by yourself is necessary, but to be even better when you're together is fantastic. Don't get me wrong. If he left me tomorrow, I wouldn't die. There would be a death, but I wouldn't die. What I would do is never settle ever again for anything remotely less than what L has brought me, because after this there ain't no goin' back.
He even told me the other day that if he was offered a six month gig after buying a house in Saskatchewan, he wouldn't take it. "But it would be six months of work," I stammered, assuming that an actor like himself would use this fact to override any other priority. "Yes, but it would be six months away from you and our new home - and those things are more important," he answered without prompting. My eyes filled with tears. Little does he know that I have been waiting my whole life to hear those words.
Now, how could I need time away from that?
Then to my right, a shopping cart came whizzing past me with a grown man balanced atop it on his belly. It was he, the one that I call Babe, and I could not help but burst into a fit of giggles. My mother, present for the antics, was aghast. "How could I ever get sick of this man?" I thought. So, I refined my yearning to me, my MacBook and L - my inscrutable life partner.
How did this happen to me? I am so stupidly happy with this man. It is boggling. He put outfits together for me today while we shopped (oh, our one day off in the week, how divine!) and then we went and looked at houses. This man likes doing practically every single thing that I like doing and not because he is trying to impress me, but because he actually LIKES doing these things! Yet, he remains amazingly masculine. And funny. Watching him with the kids at school is amazing. They adore him. He gets them, because, let's face it, he is the kind of adult who rides shopping carts on his belly. Plus, he is sexy. Even as our honeymoon phase wears out and our seven month approaches (and this ain't no normal seven months...this is seven months of living and working together every single day) he still stops whatever he is doing when I get naked to watch with complete and total focus. His dimples deepen and I am in love all over again. It is sick, I know. Even reading this must make the cynics cry out "it will all come crashing down on them sooner or later!". Perhaps they would be right if they weren't so wrong.
Somewhere along the line I had started to join the ranks in believing that Love Like This didn't exist. I had started to wonder if I wouldn't just find some middle ground with a lovely man that was a 'good match in many ways if not in all ways' and settle comfortably with that. It would grant me the individuality that I was so yearning for today at three o'clock and represent the idea that becoming One was an unhealthyily codependent goal. Both very important ideals for a young feminist like myself. It would have been a fine life, had that been what happened...
But OH how much better is it to be drowned in someone's love and in your love for them! Pa-shaw, I say to those who shake their heads in concern! It may not be healthy, it may not be safe, I dunno, but it is ALIVE. It is the stuff made of the greatest ballads and the most profound art. To be okay all by yourself is necessary, but to be even better when you're together is fantastic. Don't get me wrong. If he left me tomorrow, I wouldn't die. There would be a death, but I wouldn't die. What I would do is never settle ever again for anything remotely less than what L has brought me, because after this there ain't no goin' back.
He even told me the other day that if he was offered a six month gig after buying a house in Saskatchewan, he wouldn't take it. "But it would be six months of work," I stammered, assuming that an actor like himself would use this fact to override any other priority. "Yes, but it would be six months away from you and our new home - and those things are more important," he answered without prompting. My eyes filled with tears. Little does he know that I have been waiting my whole life to hear those words.
Now, how could I need time away from that?
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