I'm a firm believer in the idea that one creates love from inside one's self. I believe the health of a relationship can be guaged by the health of the individual. I believe it is the responsibility of the individual to nurture the emotions.
I also believe that blaming external factors, including one's partners, for one's discontent or dis-ease in a relationship is an abdication of personal responsibility. Hence, phrases like, "you make me feel..." are necessarily invalid. They are symptoms of an underlying flaw within the person making the complaint.
So, when I found myself, two days ago, miserable, grumpy, resentful and whiny, I knew I had to look, not at my girl, but at me.
Here's what I found.
I have overworked myself with this move. I have until the end of September to vacate this dump.
I sacrificed my health and mental stability, trying to push myself too hard. I became brittle, rigid, ungenerous, dark, brooding, grouchy, suspicious and generally a buzz kill.
So, yesterday, while I waited for the gas company, I set up our kitchen. It took about seven hours. I nested. I arranged. I stored. I cleaned.
Then, I came home and laoded an easy load: big, light weight things from my yard.
My girl emailed, asking to be picked up from work late; she had to stay to cover someone else.
I stopped at the grocery for some fresh fruits and avacados, so we'll have nice things to eat with all the chicken, steak and sausages I'd cooked in Indian kabab sauce.
I showered thoroughly and put on something gauzy, flowing and feminine.
I sent her two salacious emails: short, but to the point. They were teases, references to inside jokes and definately sexual. She's cold and distant at work: she has to be, to get her job done. I wanted to break through the membrane before we even saw each other last night.
I checked my bank balance. I'd been overly conservative, since I made some purchases from eBay this month. I still had a hundred dollars in my account.
I stopped at a pharmacy. I bought her some pretty hair bobs: pink butterflies with rhinestones, pink chopsticks.
I went to her work early and clipped butterflies all over her while she worked. I fed her chocolate Necco wafers. She didn't dawdle with email or phone messages; she was ready to leave with me.
Preparation is ninety percent, you know...
She babbled on about ladders and plans and .....
I asked if she were hungry. She reckoned she was.
I took her to her favorite Thai restaurant and ordered everything we wanted. We just talked and laughed. She joked 'til I snorted green tea out of my nose.
We went to her little room. It's my first time down there; visitors aren't allowed. But her landlord knows she's moving and gave her permission to show her room.
I was amazed! In one, tiny room, she'd built a totally functional, interesting, completely equipped life. I like it because I understand it; I lived in a Winnabego for a year.
I teased her about how much of her stuff folds up. Over dinner, I'd said, "I bet you had one of those collapsable pill cups when you were a kid, huh?" She grinned broadly and acknowledged she had, and had loved it. Then, she told me about her folding sunglasses; I'd had a pair, too.
The more I know her, the more I like her.
We took her folding ladder, folding carrier and folding step stool over to the new place.
I let her in the back door, to the kitchen. She just said, "wow!" She really appreciated my work.
We unloaded the car, chattering like little girls.
She announced, "I want a diet cherry limeade from Sonic." So we went.
We were almost to the volcanoes by then, so we drank our limeades up there, in the fog and lightening, looking out at city lights.
She nodded off in the car on the ride back to my place. I put her to bed and nursed a boo boo.
We didn't talk much. I let her sleep. Osa got on her belly and looked so content. My cats all accept her as family now.
It's after seven; she's still asleep.
I'm taking it easy today. I'm loading only stuff for a romantic evening. We became lovers on a Thursday.
I want the new place ready: a temporary bed, candles, sunflowers from my garden, a nice supper, some music, everything we need in the bathroom....
I want us to sleep in our house tonight. She doesn't know it. It's a surprise. Don't tell her, ok?
I can easily roll up one of my foam mattresses and squeeze it into the back seat of her car. Curtains and bed linens are already there. So's most of the food.
I just want us to be girlfriends tonight. No distractions. No clutter. No pets. No screaming neighbors or bums in the alley.
Just us. And our new house.
