Baby, It's Cold Outside

I'm feeling a bit like I'm coming down from a high right now, having companionship withdrawals. It's too quiet here, even before the kids went to bed tonight. And so I blog. Again.

What a marvelous weekend: trapped inside with a lover and no kids... nothing to do but watch movies and mess around and watch more movies and mess around some more... and take a treacherously slippery walk to the convenience store and back... and drink some beers and eat chocolate and watch more movies... and mess around some more... and take a nap... and shower... and did I mention messing around?

Yep, thirty-six straight hours of sweet decadence. He arrived here at 9pm on Friday night and by Saturday morning, the roads were too dangerous to leave... so he stayed until 9am Sunday morning. I didn't lose power the whole time until about 8am Sunday, so instead of messing around, we went outside and chipped away at the ice encasing our minivans for about an hour until they were free and we had to part and go back to the reality of being parents again... my kids at my mom's, his kids at their mom's.

Is it weird to feel content having someone to sit next to you on the couch at night, even when you're not in control of the clicker and there's nothing but crap on the tube? I guess I've been in control of my own remote for far too long. Or is it weird to gain a sense of satisfaction just having someone sleeping next to you in bed, even when he is taking up too much room? I woke up in the middle of the night last night and realized that he was lying in the center of the bed and I was barely clinging to the edge. But rather than wake him and ask him to move over, I felt supremely satisfied that he was there sharing the night with me, so I just rolled over to face him and put my arm around his middle.

It turns out that it's the things like that -- the little day-to-day things that most couples take for granted and even let themselves get annoyed by if they have control issues or have lost a sense of the big picture -- that I'm finding joy in right now.

After my divorce, it wasn't really the sex that I missed, it was the simple companionship. But I never fully enjoyed that companionship with my ex-husband... there just were too many power struggles between us and too many passive-aggressive dishes coming from him, served up with a side of cold shoulder from me. Sure, it was good some of the time, but ultimately I was dissatisfied the majority of the time and there were too many other problems between us to ever feel content just "being" with the ex.

"S" and I have been dating for almost a whole month now. We met the night of January 2nd, so it's been four weeks exactly. Things are shifting and changing and reality is creeping in, but that's because we're inviting it. We both are eager to find out how well we do together in other situations outside of our own private row-to-hoe. We know we do so well in and out of the bedroom as just the two of us, but we also want to get a feel of ourselves as a couple in other formats... double-date... maybe a party... things that make us feel more real. We're making the private public, and we are becoming a real couple, when before we were only made of "would" and possibility.

We were supposed to have a double-date this weekend, in an effort to open the perfect little bubble we've created, but that has to be rescheduled to next weekend because of the ice storm. Last week, we opened the bubble a bit, as I let him meet my litter. The first night went fairly well, until my middle child acted out at the end of the night... getting angry at his brother as he sometimes does when he gets frustrated playing video games and then topping off the outburst by yelling "you bastard" at him. It didn't help that I let them stay up a little too long, so the meltdown continued while I tried to have them get ready for bed. There’s nothing like an angry, overtired 9-year-old boy throwing a temper tantrum to almost spoil the mood. Of course, not even sitting on a block of ice can cool the heat in these loins, so that damper didn't last long.

The next night, the same child made another vulgar stand by punching his sister full-force while we traveled to my mother's house to drop them off for an evening out together. "S" stepped up immediately and stopped it, as he's more than capable of dealing with 9-year-olds and their combative outbursts, and I pulled the van over until the outburst subsided, but it made me feel mortified that my middle child can't just behave in a civilized manner like the other two (for the most part) do. Instead, he has to be the challenger. I think he was testing everyone's limits, especially mine and this new man in my life, trying to get attention by any means and trying to find out how much he could get away with too. That moment almost spoiled my mood for that evening too, but I recovered eventually. A little time and some charming company really do wonders for my soul.

Of course it's not going to be all smooth sailing for us. We have real limits as well. A good example of that is when we went to see a movie in the middle of the afternoon last week. I didn't realize that the theater that I'd picked was right near his estranged wife's place of work... if I'd had any idea, I would have picked anywhere else at all. He didn't mention the problem and never complained, but I knew as soon as I accidentally drove past her place of work as I tried to find the theater that I'd compromised his sense of well-being for the day. And when I got to the theater and he was waiting inside for me rather than outside, I knew he really was feeling uncomfortable. And afterwards when we walked to have some tea nearby and he didn't hold my hand along the way, I knew he was feeling so guilty. And when we said goodbye and he didn't try to kiss me in the parking lot and nervously cut the hug short, I knew he was torn and filled with pain and sadness. I knew all of that, but I also wanted him to not feel any regrets.

He has no reason to hide these things. He's not having an affair, because he's officially separated and out on his own, but he still suffers from guilt. Most people would wonder why? His wife left the vows of their marriage behind ages ago, so why, after being forced out of the nest, would he still feel guilt and fear of getting caught? For the same reason that he wears his ring. If he takes it off, if he shows he's moving on, his wife will react to it and suddenly he'll have to deal with all the emotions that will boil over in that regard. It will bring them even closer to the big D, and that alone is a scary thing. I know. I've been there.

At the same time, he knows where his happiness lies. He knows that avoiding the inevitable is not going to make it hurt less. Sometimes you just need to rip that bandage off, rather than slowly and painfully working around the edges. You're going to have to deal with all of those emotions that come up anyway, but you have to ask yourself which is better: miserably dragging it out over time or dealing with it head-on all at once? He's already been mourning the loss of his relationship for nearly a year and a half now... the final bonds of trust and respect were broken that long ago. Psychologists say that it takes most people two full years to really recover and rediscover themselves after divorce... some less, some more, but two years is about average.

All I want from him is to finally put his own joy first. But first he had to find it, because if you asked him what his hopes and dreams for the future are, he really couldn't tell you. That happens when you lose yourself in a relationship. Bad relationships tend to be all-encompassing. It's like asking someone living in a third world country whose life is stricken with poverty if he/she is happy... they really don't know, because they've never allowed themselves to think about it, they only know how to subsist from day to day. It's how you learn to survive.

He's been bearing his wife's cross for far too long and when I met him he was stooping under its weight. Whenever I see him now (with the exception of the movie day last week), he stands a little bit taller each time. Life as a cuckold does not suit him. He needs to make choices of his own and feel safe doing it; he needs to have the freedom to express himself and still feel supported and respected; he needs to follow his heart and the rest will finally come easily. We all need that, but when you go without it for so long, you forget where you were going in life and get focused on surviving from day-to-day.

But once the absence of happiness is pointed out, it can no longer be ignored.

He talks less and less about the possibility of going back to his wife, and more and more about the possibility of "us" working out in the future. He now sees the big D as inevitable. He thanks me for helping him see it, but I really haven't done that work for him at all... I've just held his hand and let him take the time he needs to see things for what they are.

It's his own feelings that have done that for him, and the freedom and acceptance that I've given him to go through that process for himself. I may have my opinions and will share them with him, but I also freely point out when my opinions are being swayed by my feelings for not wanting to see him hurt and when they're being formed by a more objective perspective. And I don't disagree with all of his X2B's feelings either. I just disagree with the very egocentric way that she expresses them without taking responsibility for her own actions.

The thirty-six hours that we spent together this weekend ran the gamut of emotions and revelations. The ice storm was cathartic in many ways. It froze time long enough for both of us to examine what we both want in our lives. The outside world was cold and treacherous, but inside was safe and warm (and occasionally steamy HOT too). We held hands during the whole walk to the store and back yesterday, despite the freezing temperature and our lack of gloves... and though the ground was slippery and sometimes difficult to traverse, we never fell once during the whole journey. During some of our quiet moments of our walk, I thought about how we were helping each other so naturally and how I really didn't notice the cold at all.

It was such a grand metaphor for what I've always been seeking: the freedom to venture out into the world, the companionship to make the experience more fun, a hand to hold to steady myself or help me up if I should fall, and the reassurance that there's a whole lot of warmth to share back at home. We're both still trying to discover what our futures hold, but more and more I'm hoping that we're able to explore that together.