May 3, 2023
It’s been seven months since our first date. A few days beyond that when we matched on Hinge. It’s been at times joyful, at times terrifying, often exasperating, yet always an incredibly rewarding journey.
I love Big. I always love Big. This time is no different. I love with intensity, an intensity sometimes frightening even to me. I like that about me. I like that I can throw my whole heart into loving, risk my entire heart. But I’ve only been able to truly embrace that in the last while since I’ve learned that losing a Great Love will not destroy me. Always, there is a way to go on, to move on, and time lessens the pain… and the regret.
It’s hard to imagine losing David. I don’t want to think of losing him, but it’s hard to rest completely in what we have. I want to. But I can’t. I’ve too much history of loss. But maybe that’s a good thing – maybe always being a bit off balance prevents me from taking all this for granted, from falling into complacency, from assuming he’ll always be there. Because he won’t. One thing or another will take one of us away from the other. That is an inevitability.
I’m struggling with balance -- how much compromise is too much compromise? How much compromise lays the groundwork for resentments to grow, to build, and over time, to black out all that’s good about a relationship? Because there is a lot of compromise.
Always my fear of too much compromise is offset by my desire to do all the things I can to make this relationship meaningful. My efforts are not based on desperation, they’re based on a genuine desire to experience the good things about a relationship. The primary benefit is the partnership, the feeling I am not alone, that I don’t have to always walk out the difficult times, the frightening times, all by myself. Conversely, a partnership provides someone with whom I can share the joys of life. Joy is much richer when it is shared.
And yet, the notion partnership means we are not alone is an illusion. We are all alone, limited and contained within these bodies of ours. We are all truly individual and separate; we are all truly alone within ourselves, our thoughts, and our emotions. We can partner with one another to ease the pain, to ease the difficulty of the things which challenge us in life – to an extent. But nothing changes the fact we come in alone and we go out alone. It’s all on us, truly, each of us as individuals.
But that’s a good thing, too. To understand, and to really know it’s all on me to make of my life what I will places the responsibility squarely on me. I can’t expect someone to save me, to change me, to make me better. Those are things I do for me. I’ve got hold of that. I’ve really always known, but I’ve truly lived it fully in the last few years. I no longer blame my father for the choices I made, and instead recognize the context within which I behaved in damaging ways. I take responsibility for all my choices and live each day with their ramifications, for better for worse.
Just now, getting this all down, I see how far I’ve come. I see I am OK within myself, with being alone with myself. And that’s what makes this easy, this time. I don’t need this relationship; I want this relationship. I want it a great deal. But if for whatever reason I don’t have it any longer, I will Persevere. And life will go on.
But for now, I’m giving it all I’ve got. And I like that about me.
Photo by Jean-Karim Dangou on Unsplash
November 3, 2022 Text to David
Remember when we were on the couch and you had your leg over mine and you said, “I could stay this way for a week”?
And I was compelled to give you a little speech on how being a couple doesn’t solve anything blah blah blah. Score one for independent feminist “gettin’ her shit together” Coco.
The truth is, being a couple doesn’t make things easier or better, but it sure helps.
David:
It sure does.