Suddenly *Not So* Single Journey

I’m a survivor…

Author: thenicknick

Reading and commenting on posts today made me think of a parallel to my own life.  See, my premise is that this relationship with him has been a bit like a game of Suvivor.  Ummm…maybe a lot like Survivor.

It’s true that I have outlasted any of the girlfriends past.  I’m not sure that it has anything to do with outwitting.  And I certainly wouldn’t suggest that I outplayed anyone.  I don’t play.  Love isn’t a game.  It’s real and serious and should be treated as such.  It should be nurtured and appreciated, handled with care and respect.  That is probably the real reason I’m still around.  I understand this.

At the same time…there have been elimination challenges…maybe simply eliminations.  And there have been rewards…reward challenges even.  We broke up over and over again for the same reason.  He couldn’t see himself married to me.  He couldn’t see himself married to someone older, someone with kids, someone who had already been married.

Then, after a while, after all the history we made, all the bonds we built, the memories, the closeness…somehow…he couldn’t see himself with anyone else.  That’s the best place to be in.  He doesn’t want to share the rest of his life with anyone but me.  Ahh.

It was a long time coming.  I had to exhibit a ridiculous amount of patience.  I had to put my foot down at times.  I had to remember what I was worth, what I deserved, and refuse to settle for less.  I had to stand up to him and tell him I expected more than crumbs, that I should be given the whole meal, dessert, too.  Eventually, he figured it out.  After a while, he was ready to give me everything I needed and more.

I’ve seen how his feelings continue to evolve.  I can feel how much more deeply we are connected, how much happier he is than ever before.  It surprises him, but it’s a great look for him.  The ‘ritas and the sweatshirts are only a small part of it.

My bear of a man wakes up happy now.  He jokes with me and plays with me.  It was cold this morning.  The heat wasn’t on overnight and the temperature in the house was a brisk 59 degrees when we woke.  Brrr.  He had come into the bathroom to brush his teeth, then jumped back under the covers while I dried off.  I hopped in with him.

HIM: It’s cold!

me: I know.

And we snuggled close for a few minutes to share the warmth.

me: I think you should bring me my clothes so I can get dressed under the covers and stay warm.

I was playing with him.  I fully expected him to tell me to get them myself or respond with something equally playful and silly.  Instead, he had a thoughtful look on his face.

HIM: Do you have them together already?

me: Yup.

A few more minutes passed.  I wasn’t eager to move.  I still had time to relax and enjoy him.  For that, I’d make time even…

Soon, he hopped out of bed and walked to my closet.  I was confused.  Then it hit me.  He was really going to get my clothes for me so I could stay warm.

me: Awww, babe!  It’s okay.  I need to get up.  And for future reference…they are in the bathroom.

Huh.  He would brave the cold so that I don’t have to.  Very nice.

So, it’s no wonder that I try to do special little things for him in return.  There have been mixed results.  He once told me that the woman he married would be able to make French Silk pie for him.  Thus began an epic struggle to perfect the French Silk pie.  Now, you wouldn’t think it would be that difficult, right?  I  mean, they serve it at Waffle House.  How hard can it be?

Well, I tried one recipe after another.  One was too grainy.  Another was too heavy.  I must have made a half dozen French Silk pies before he told me to give up.

HIM: Babe, so pie isn’t your thing…

And he patted my hand.  Grrr.

I can bake.  Dammit.  I am an excellent cook.  Who would know that I couldn’t make the one freakin’ dessert he loved?  Double grrr.

He suggested that blonde would be a better color for me.  Right.  In case you forgot how that turned out…read this.  And soon after that, I let him pay for my hair to be chemically straightened.  It was a disaster of epic proportions.  My hair was in recovery for…well, nearly forever.  It’s just now looking like hair…again.

Then he told me that he thought the sexiest song in the world was Alannah Myles’ Black Velvet. It wasn’t the words so much as the tune and the way she sang it.  He told me if I could sing it…well, let’s leave it at that.

So, I’ll be working on perfecting that before the honeymoon.

My point, I suppose, is that the relationships that last, that endure, that survive…are the ones where the people in them respect one another and try to make the other person happy.  These relationships are punctuated with mutual appreciation, and lots of love.  The best relationships are taken seriously, often passionate, and especially playful.  These couples know how to work together, how to weather a storm, how to compromise, how to let go of hurts.

It doesn’t come all at once.  It evolves over time.  And that is why I constantly believe in the importance of time and patience, but maybe communication most of all.  Let love grow.

Quick Karma:

• make your heart as open as the sky

PS. I’ve posted a picture of the dress I’m thinking about wearing for the wedding on Wedding Journeys.  Please stop by.  I need all the feedback I can get.  Suddenly HE has decided he’s all traditional and can’t see the dress before the wedding.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, March 24th, 2010 at 6:18 am and is filed under relationships. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.