Embarking on a love affair at the advanced decrepit decades of 40 and 50 is a whole new learning experience for both of us. It is fairly common “wisdom” that we will be stuck in our ways, that we won’t be able to compromise, that we will be carrying excess emotional baggage; that we stand a great chance of failing, blah, blah, blah …
And spending the better part of a week together has, I think, taught us more than all the weekends we have spent together in the last near-enough 3 months. Both of us were looking forward to it immensely whilst secretly nurturing concerns – he wondered if the cats would be an issue, I was concerned that I would feel crowded. Neither of those or in fact anything else, marred what turned out to be a spectacularly happy time. None of the cautionary tales came true.
Also, we now have: Expectations! Rules! Plans! As well as Surprises!
That at some point in the near future, one of us is going to have to give up an awful lot to move nearer to the other. Who that might be is not currently clear but both of us have commitments and lives outside of our own to consider. It’s not as easy as going with the person who has the most, say, career prospects, or the better home. This is not about compromising lifestyle. The happiness of those we love is at stake, so we have to consider all the options very, very carefully.
No sexual flirting, no dating, no internet sex, no actual sex of any description except with each other.
I am not allowed to snog girls. Nor is he for that matter. We didn’t discuss boys but I guess the same rules apply :-).
Posing for nudie shots for charity – absolutely fine.
Selling my body to keep my house – absolutely not fine.
Cats in the bedroom are allowed, provided they don’t mind being cata(haha!)pulted into the hallway every now and again.
Weeing in the hallway is allowed (cats only) and he doesn’t mind the odd whiff – big phew!
I need to stop feeling like I am taking advantage of his good nature when he is working in my garden because he actually does enjoy it and does not mind in the slightest.
He needs to look in the mirror more often and understand he is bloody yummy. Old git is not an accurate description of what I see when I look at him. Fat cow is not an accurate description of what he sees when he looks at me.
He eats everything I put in front of him so I needn’t worry about him being irked about me making healthy meals out of spare pence. It’s a non-issue.
I am not going to starve to death if I eat only a little (mainly because I seem to be able to inhale calories) and he needs to stop worrying.
Speaking of inhaling, I really need to give up nicotine. Not because it bothers him but because he wants me around for a few years yet.
Both of us come with baggage and history and reactions to situations that are coloured by experience. This is absolutely fine and we are more than able to deal with them.
Cutting (part of) the grass (please note, I did not ask him to do the entire lawn!) with secateurs is an acceptable practice to avoid snipping spiders and mutilating mice. As is joking about it on facebook.
That we are going to continue travelling up and down the countryside to see each other as often as he can afford it and as often as my super bro-in-law is willing and able to cat sit.
That we are going to spend Yule/Christmas together. Woot! Currently under discussion is the Meal. Whilst I don’t expect him to adopt my now-back-to-virtually veggie lifestyle, I am not fucking cooking a poor goose. There is no compromise on this one currently. Christmas is on, eating may not be :-D. And if he asks “what about the poor piggies?” he’s getting nut roast.
That both of us can feel like teenagers again. That we can trust each other across long distances and time apart and miss each other like mad. That talking on the phone for hours at a time is lovely, but brings home our separateness when we stop.
That despite living in almost opposite parts of the country, we might just have found that for which we have spent years looking.
Now, if I could get the rest of my life working half as well, I’d be very happy indeed.