These things I’ve learned…
Up until December 19, 2006, G and I have been away from each other for 5 days in 5+ years. Aside from those 5 days and these 8 since he left for China, we’ve seen each other everyday. When I pause to think about that, it’s like wow! When I pause to think about it a little longer, it makes me reflect on the power of relationships.
Relationships have a rhythm to them, and a routine. Ours is no different. G arrives each morning bright and squirrelly from the gym. He is always in motion on arrival with either a comment about the gym, or the newspaper or a critique about someone- or something-or-other while I am my usual sleepy self. Breakfast is had and I head off first. Before leaving I always give him a kiss on the cheek.
I’ve missed that kiss on cheek these past days.
During the course of the day G and I call each other to talk, or fire emails back and forth … it’s part of our relationship routine. These brief chats are not earthshaking
discourses on the meaning of life but simple things like ‘what you having
for lunch’, or ‘a new Zip.ca dvd has arrived’; or ‘how things going at
Isn’t it strange how routine can prove the death of a relationship, yet, in its absence, is so dearly, heartbreakingly missed?
I am invariably the first home and enjoy preparing dinner for him, though I’d never dare admit it. I look forward to 5pm when I go unlock the front door because I know he’ll be home soon. And then there he is, through the door, either miffed with work or high on life (rarely any in between). Again we greet with a peck on the cheek. He has his debrief time then, checking his email, reading this Xanga, surfing the Louis Vuitton site, and doing one of the many on-line surveys he attached to. We dinner together, watching Leslie spill out the news on Global. We clean up, have dessert with tea and get to watching our fill of trash tv. It is all seemingly so ‘the same’, so ‘routine’, so ‘domestic’. Yet, so wonderful when viewed through the prism distance affords.
Sure, G’s strange. He’s complex and fascinating and artsy and eccentric beyond belief. And he can be oh-so-difficult as artists often are. His mind works like no other I’ve ever encountered. It exists on a different plane, a little askew from the norm. It will take a lifetime to know and understand him … and, you know, that’s just fine with me.
These things I’ve learned:
- absence from G does make the heart grow fonder;
- absence from G makes me sad;
- time passes slowly when G is away.
His voice greets me first each morning; his voice sends me to the sandman each night. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
G gives meaning to my life. Part of who I now am (transformed because of our relationship) is defined by my attachment to him. And that realization is overwhelmingly terrifying and utterly comforting. As love, itself, often is.
I miss you hun.