Last time I posted a blog in here (myspace.com) was sometime in September of 2008. Then life changed I guess. In more ways than I can think. And then it changed again. And then some.
So, him and I bought a house some 30 miles away from the city. At the time, it was something that I felt we both needed. A break away from the city and all the chaos that comes with living there. I thought we needed sometime to not just be "city gays in a relationship", but to be a couple building a future and thinking ahead. I mean, who buys a house if not thinking ahead?
Initially when I started the search, I was hoping that we would buy in Oakland - close to the city, urban, diverse and that when the housing market bounced right back up, that we would have some nice equity in case we needed to sell and move elsewhere. Well, we lost track of that vision and ended up in Concord.
And so don't get me wrong; Concord is awesome. It is not an urban environment for sure, but it is close enough that I am a train ride away from the city and the craziness that I love and miss dearly. And it is quiet enough that I can unwind if I allow myself to.
But suburbia does something to city folk. It really challenges you. It challenges relationships. It tests bonds and connections. Many fail, but many succeed. It just so happened that we failed. I mean; a year later after having moved into this wonderful house, we barely talked and we barely spent any time together - our discontent with each-other was hidden behind the pretext of our "busy" schedules: appointments, yoga, over-time, happy-hours with friends; etcetera.
I left the city looking for change and an opportunity to solidify what we had. I don't know if I was in denial, or hoping for a change to convert our quasi-dysfunctional romance into something stronger? I don't know.
So, him and I ended up separating back in July. Or was it earlier? I can't even remember what day it was. It's someplace blurry in the back of my head because it was an unreal event; although to be honest, I never expected us to last this long... we did, and I grew to love, count, depend and support my partner. And so that when he wasn't there... the void was immense!! The person who drove me absolutely fucking crazy, but who I could simply not live without... had left.
Everything in the house reminded me of him. His finger prints and his footsteps were everywhere. There was no place where I could go where I would not see him and visions would cut at me as I went by. It was such a painful experience. Being left behind with a house full of memories to sort out and scents and apparitions to expel.
I loved this house. Because it was ours. I know I bitched and moaned about him not helping me with the house projects and such; but those that I did myself I did them with pride and love. Because I did it for us both. There was a certain level of passion and commitment to working on something that belongs to you and your love.
And so now that he has left, the house changed. It became no more than a cold box that houses my cats and I. A box still packed with jabbing reminders of the places that were his as well: the bench on the deck where he smoked, his ashes still stain the spot where he used t sit; the black sofa chair where he sat to play his video games by the window, etc. The front door's keyhole laughs at me each day when I get home; it finds it funny the sadness that strikes me as i climb up the cement stairs to open the door. "What a fool!", it thinks. I think it too. I think what a fool because: 1) I didn't fight for it hard enough. and 2) because I am aching for a love that had become so overwhelming and demanding that I felt I was going to lose my mind, and I only make reference to "my mind" because I had already lost everything else? No? That was part of the problem I guess, when you begin to think of the things you gave to your love as things you lost. The giving versus the losing.
It's been nearly six months since we called it quits. Surprisingly; for me, the ache has escalated. For a while I had felt secure and positive and so ready to move on. For some reason; probably courtesy of the holidays, it has been exceptionally hard on me. My heart be nagging often. And the funny thing is when you reach out to those dear beings that support you and they can't simply listen - they always throw back on your face the vomit of what was your bitching about your partner. You can't really talk to anyone. Talking is like a boomerang, it always comes back around. I guess this is why people go to therapists; because therapist don't give a fuck - they just want to get paid. Come in. Sit down. Talk. Cry. Bitch. Pay. Now get the fuck out. I know because I tried a therapist for a while expecting him to help me secure my sanity before I "lost" that too. LOL LOL. Well, if anything came out of that... was the shock of hearing myself say these things out loud to a stranger. It's one thing to write in a book, or to blog... or to boomerang to a friend your guts out. Really, vocalizing your aches and worries to a stranger is highly liberating and eye-opening. I realized that I was being childish and selfish and I wanted Mr "Pay and get the fuck out" to just give me the answers to my problems. Isn't there an iPhone App for that?
He left a couple months after "Mr Pay and get the fuck out". We agreed to it. Part of me had agreed to the separation hoping that it would trigger better discussion and resolution of our challenges. That didn't happen. Two weeks after he was already back in the city on his own. Well, this is good for him. He needed it. Everyone needs to experience life and live it. It wasn't fair for him to live his life thru my experience. You know?
Was the separation good for me? I don't know. I am broke as church mice. But I am thankful to God for being provided with the income to hold it together, at least for the time being. Sometimes I debate between being alone and being lonely; it's a discussion I often have with myself. I am glad the cats are here to drive me crazy and keep me moving. One could easily fall into a sedentary lifestyle fueled by emptiness and vacancy. You know?
Well, I guess i could go on and on and on. Lots of things that i want to discuss that I need to sort out that were triggered by his leaving. Well, it's part of growing. Guess I'll get to it when it's time.
And so here I am, in our house... making the best of it. Dreaming everyday of returning to the city and being a lounge singer. I'll wake up eventually.
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