I realize, looking back over posts on this blog, that one might get the idea that Beloved and I have some kind of perfect relationship, in which we intuitively understand one another at all times and completely and perfectly meet one another's needs. That, or one might get the idea that I'm a damned liar.
Not really, to either. I am very happy in my relationship with Beloved. But the truth is, we drive one another crazy sometimes, we are so, so different.
Let's talk about need for alone time and need for together time.
Guess which I am fine with a minimum of? Guess which she needs or she literally can't function in her very busy life? I think everyone needs both, but we have a fairly regular struggle around my desire for more and more frequent time together. Because I have a custody schedule to which I must adhere, every other weekend (when my children are with their father) is absolutely precious to me... if we can't be together every free minute I tend to feel cheated. And angry. Until I pull myself together and realize how much I need some alone time as well.
So tonight I wanted Beloved to join my kids and me for dinner at a great, new Italian restaurant in town. She needs to stay in. I'm disappointed. But I'll live.
Beloved and I saw a film not too long ago that was advertised as a groundbreaking documentary about a couple of lesbians who, when they went to get a marriage license in their town, ended up with their lives turned upside down. And the first 10 minutes of the film were pretty riveting... all news footage and cameras popping and the women standing next to their lawyer as the legal system tried to deal with this turn of events. By the time the film was over, however, I felt I had paid my dollars to watch paint dry. The truth was, the film was pretty damned boring, when all was said and done. Their lives were boring. Which may be the revolutionary truth that LGBTQ folks ought to start advertising.
We're boring. No need to fear. We're just as boring as everyone else is.