When I was 27, I realized I'd given up on love. No man would ever want me, crazy as I was, so I'd better plan for a different sort of life, not that I'd ever put much stock in the idea of marriage in the first place after watching my folks make each other miserable for 30-some-odd years. I visited the folks that year, and warned Mom that if I actually hadn't found someone by the time I was oh-say 38, that I'd be looking into ways to have a child on my own. That's the type of thing that would gibe against Dad's self-righteousness, so I wanted to give her fair warning.
That same year, I met Les.
Fast forward to present...I'm sitting here surfing the Prairie Home website for a cake recipe to make tonight. I picked him up at Amtrak early this morning, we've just woken up from delicious naps, and he's indulging in Nap Part 2 on the couch, snoring comfortably. He can't understand why he's still so tired, even though he a) traveled 5 hours by train last night, b) is still getting over viral bronchitis, and c) his body and mind are getting used to the relaxed atmosphere of here vs. the rather strained atmosphere of SC now that his sis, addict/alcoholic significant other, and beautiful, innocent small person have moved in with his folks. Thank goodness we are moving up there, because I can't imagine sleeping over there while visiting without a) giving her a sound piece of my mind about her behavior, b) smacking the crap out of her man, and c) sneaking off in the dead of night with my beautiful niece so they won't ruin her upbringing with their instability and habits. But I digress...
I find the recipe, pondering in my head whether I can switch out the chocolate because it might make his headaches worse. I hiss at the cat for sneaking behind the vertical blinds like she always does. I'm glancing at our overloaded bookshelves while I wait for the computer to upload...I'm getting the weird urge to read classics again, like Last of the Mohicans or Wuthering Heights. He snores lightly in the background. And I realize that the thing that was missing for the last week and a half (him, duh, but something more...) has returned, like a missing puzzle piece fit into place to make my soul a golden sphere again instead of the weird shape it took on last week when it had a chunk missing from it. It's an aha moment, a "hey cool, I'm better." Of course I'm not completely better; I'm still pretty hormonal of late and I really should shave my legs. Random, huh? But codependence ain't a bad thing; there is such a thing as the cheesy line from Jerry Maguire: "you complete me." And I really don't like that movie so that should tell you something about my ability to relate to one of its lines. I can still tolerate Tom Cruise in A Few Good Men, and Rain Man on a good day, but that's about it. The mother ship needs to come for that SOB.
Digressing again...I'll make him dinner tonight. We'll enjoy each other's company rather than go into our separate rooms because we prefer different TV shows. We'll remember how good this feels, so we only do the separate rooms thing when it's necessary, like Tuesdays when I'm ensconced in an evening of NCIS, House, and SVU. He's talking more about how we need to get organized for the move, how he wants to start looking for work up there soon, and if it means him moving early somehow, so be it. Something's waking up in him, a reactionary urge to do right by me and us rather than have us mirror his sister's sitch. I'll take it; I need that energy. Much as I try to take over and do everything at times in this relationship, I know I need help and that to nurture the partnership, I need to release my hold on total control. It allows another opinion, other ideas, and provides a necessary 2nd brain so that the project can grow and flourish under both our tutelages. (There's a sentence...) ::wry grin::
Gotta go hunt and gather. So nice to be feeling better.