Got to see Chris!
For the first time in weeks, we were both available and feeling social. I drove up to Vancouver and he cooked dinner for me: salmon, herbed red potatoes, and fresh green beans. Then we went to see Serenity. I wanted to see it again and he hadn't yet, so it worked out well. After the movie we went for a walk. It was warmish and very misty. The moisture in the air collected on my hair and eyelashes--its just as well my hair is curly and I don't wear makeup. I liked the feel of his fingers on the back of my neck, so warm after the chill of the theatre and the night air. Made my nipples hard and gave me gooseflesh. He smelled wonderful: his natural scent mixed deliciously with soap and his creaky leather jacket. It is a good thing I masturbated and napped before we went out, because even though 'Aunt Flo' is visiting and I'm tired and my libido is in a lull as a result, he excites me.
We walked to a cafe and had lattes and shared a pear galette and talked quite a lot. He makes me laugh and I make him laugh, but we did talk seriously about a few things. He said I say the most disconcerting things at times, which I think is a polite way of telling me I am too frank. We talked a bit about Nic and I asked if it bothered him that I was seeing someone else. He said he wished he could say it didn't. He knows I have men friends that I am very close to and we never talked about exclusivity, but he just assumed that my reluctance to have sex with anyone also meant I would be reluctant to become involved with anyone, too. I told him I was sorry if I'd mislead him in any way and he said I had not. I asked him if he was seeing anyone else and he said he wasn't, that his work schedule is too hectic, and after he makes time for his family and friends, he doesn't have much left for romance. He mentioned that when he was down South he'd thought about sending me flowers at work. I gripped his hand and said "Don't you dare!" and he laughed and said he knew me well enough to know that unlike most women, I would not relish the attention that getting flowers at work would create. I thanked him, both for the thought (getting me flowers) and his thoughfulness (in realizing I would be embarassed) and kissed him thoroughly as a reward for both.
I thanked him for putting up with me, especially right now, while I'm feeling so vulnerable and fearful and uncertain about so many things. And I told him I would understand if he decided it wasn't worth it, you know, dealing with an emotional basketcase who wouldn't have sex with him. And he frowned at me and said he thinks I'm an incredible woman, and that my complicated past and present aren't off-putting for him. He said I'm simply more aware of and more forthcoming about my demons than most people, and admires the fact that I have the courage to actually do something about them. He said I'm special but that my experiences are not unique, that I'm not alone, and one day I'll realize that I'm wrestling not only with my personal demons but with the demons that dog all of humanity. He said that one day he knows I'll realize that my demons are a valid and valuable part of me and come to accept them instead of fighting them off or boxing them up, and when that happens I will feel enriched and, if not whole, at least a lot less torn. I recognized the wisdom in what he said. I hope that day of enlightenment comes soon.
He also said that being involved with me has shown him what lessons he learned from his relationship with his ex-wife. I asked what he meant. He reminded me that she was anorexic, and that they'd married when he finished grad school and she finished college, and there was something about the pressures of marriage and working that made it impossible for her to conceal the disorder any longer. He said it was hellish, watching her suffer and struggle, and he'd taken it so personally. He'd felt like a failure at being her friend and her husband and he made her illness his responsibility...and so her illness became his. They divorced because in her third treatment center she asked him for one, saying that as long as they were together she would always be sick, and it was devestating for him. He said it took time, but he understood what she meant, and how misguided he'd been in his well-meaning way. And as a result of all that, he knows he can't 'help' me, can't fix me, and that my pain is my own and he can't make it go away--that its not his place to. All he can do is be there for me and listen when I need to talk and hold me when I want to be held. And know that when he does that, he is doing it for himself as much as for me.
What a powerful lesson. I think its one I still need to learn.
We walked to a cafe and had lattes and shared a pear galette and talked quite a lot. He makes me laugh and I make him laugh, but we did talk seriously about a few things. He said I say the most disconcerting things at times, which I think is a polite way of telling me I am too frank. We talked a bit about Nic and I asked if it bothered him that I was seeing someone else. He said he wished he could say it didn't. He knows I have men friends that I am very close to and we never talked about exclusivity, but he just assumed that my reluctance to have sex with anyone also meant I would be reluctant to become involved with anyone, too. I told him I was sorry if I'd mislead him in any way and he said I had not. I asked him if he was seeing anyone else and he said he wasn't, that his work schedule is too hectic, and after he makes time for his family and friends, he doesn't have much left for romance. He mentioned that when he was down South he'd thought about sending me flowers at work. I gripped his hand and said "Don't you dare!" and he laughed and said he knew me well enough to know that unlike most women, I would not relish the attention that getting flowers at work would create. I thanked him, both for the thought (getting me flowers) and his thoughfulness (in realizing I would be embarassed) and kissed him thoroughly as a reward for both.
I thanked him for putting up with me, especially right now, while I'm feeling so vulnerable and fearful and uncertain about so many things. And I told him I would understand if he decided it wasn't worth it, you know, dealing with an emotional basketcase who wouldn't have sex with him. And he frowned at me and said he thinks I'm an incredible woman, and that my complicated past and present aren't off-putting for him. He said I'm simply more aware of and more forthcoming about my demons than most people, and admires the fact that I have the courage to actually do something about them. He said I'm special but that my experiences are not unique, that I'm not alone, and one day I'll realize that I'm wrestling not only with my personal demons but with the demons that dog all of humanity. He said that one day he knows I'll realize that my demons are a valid and valuable part of me and come to accept them instead of fighting them off or boxing them up, and when that happens I will feel enriched and, if not whole, at least a lot less torn. I recognized the wisdom in what he said. I hope that day of enlightenment comes soon.
He also said that being involved with me has shown him what lessons he learned from his relationship with his ex-wife. I asked what he meant. He reminded me that she was anorexic, and that they'd married when he finished grad school and she finished college, and there was something about the pressures of marriage and working that made it impossible for her to conceal the disorder any longer. He said it was hellish, watching her suffer and struggle, and he'd taken it so personally. He'd felt like a failure at being her friend and her husband and he made her illness his responsibility...and so her illness became his. They divorced because in her third treatment center she asked him for one, saying that as long as they were together she would always be sick, and it was devestating for him. He said it took time, but he understood what she meant, and how misguided he'd been in his well-meaning way. And as a result of all that, he knows he can't 'help' me, can't fix me, and that my pain is my own and he can't make it go away--that its not his place to. All he can do is be there for me and listen when I need to talk and hold me when I want to be held. And know that when he does that, he is doing it for himself as much as for me.
What a powerful lesson. I think its one I still need to learn.
posted by KR | 10/09/2005 11:37:00 AM
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