Where do I go from here?
I should consider myself lucky. I live in a great city, it's spring and I'm offically "on" with my company. Still something seems to be missing.
The new demands of my job have taken a toll on my relationship with John. When I come home, I don't feel like cooking, doing laundry or sometimes even talking. I talk so much during the day, I get sick of hearing my own voice. I guess we are at that crucial point in our relationship where communication is vital. John is a Jeep driving, sports loving, alternative rocker who eats baloney sandwiches and throws his clothes around, leaves drawers open when he gets ready for the office in the morning. These traits, although endearing, can wear on a tidy guy's nerves. My space has to be maintained. We are definitely experiencing a period of feeling distant and disconnected. That's bad. I guess the person John met Mardi Gras 2003 (the broken, lost, pill-popping, binge drinker) has now become more independent, confident and for the first time in a long time, comfortable in his own skin. Great things come from sobriety.
As for my job, it's the usual "the more you give..." type thing. It's a multi-tasking disaster. Thank God, I have the gift of prioritzing and moving lots of paper. I love earning my own paycheck again. It's just another part of myself I have regained.
CLOSED DOORS / SMALL WORLD
Aren't bold, emotional declarations like: "This door has to stay closed." just stupid. "Ooooohhhh, let's slam this imaginary entry way of communications to protect ourselves from each other. I did this with Greg a while back. An unexpected phone call from my former partner sent me into a funk for a couple of weeks. The pure, unadulterated truth is here are two people who were incredibly compatible (and my guess still are) who truly miss each other.
I know Greg finds himself, just like me, picking up the phone and putting it down or writing an email and deleting it. This is a part of my life I have yet to reconcile in my heart. All I know is that a metaphorically "closed door" is not the solution. In the meantime, two wonderful friends keep a mandatory silence in the fear of what door it MAY open.
When Greg was Associate Dean of Students at Tulane University, he mentored a student who is now in the process of moving to Chicago. That student, Jake has become very close to me and our circle of friends as he makes the transition. Makes one wonder. It's truly a small world even in a city big as Chicago.
Life goes on, no matter the song on the radio that in a flash brings back a tender and kind moment shared with someone who touched our lives so profoundly. So much for closed doors.
The new demands of my job have taken a toll on my relationship with John. When I come home, I don't feel like cooking, doing laundry or sometimes even talking. I talk so much during the day, I get sick of hearing my own voice. I guess we are at that crucial point in our relationship where communication is vital. John is a Jeep driving, sports loving, alternative rocker who eats baloney sandwiches and throws his clothes around, leaves drawers open when he gets ready for the office in the morning. These traits, although endearing, can wear on a tidy guy's nerves. My space has to be maintained. We are definitely experiencing a period of feeling distant and disconnected. That's bad. I guess the person John met Mardi Gras 2003 (the broken, lost, pill-popping, binge drinker) has now become more independent, confident and for the first time in a long time, comfortable in his own skin. Great things come from sobriety.
As for my job, it's the usual "the more you give..." type thing. It's a multi-tasking disaster. Thank God, I have the gift of prioritzing and moving lots of paper. I love earning my own paycheck again. It's just another part of myself I have regained.
CLOSED DOORS / SMALL WORLD
Aren't bold, emotional declarations like: "This door has to stay closed." just stupid. "Ooooohhhh, let's slam this imaginary entry way of communications to protect ourselves from each other. I did this with Greg a while back. An unexpected phone call from my former partner sent me into a funk for a couple of weeks. The pure, unadulterated truth is here are two people who were incredibly compatible (and my guess still are) who truly miss each other.
I know Greg finds himself, just like me, picking up the phone and putting it down or writing an email and deleting it. This is a part of my life I have yet to reconcile in my heart. All I know is that a metaphorically "closed door" is not the solution. In the meantime, two wonderful friends keep a mandatory silence in the fear of what door it MAY open.
When Greg was Associate Dean of Students at Tulane University, he mentored a student who is now in the process of moving to Chicago. That student, Jake has become very close to me and our circle of friends as he makes the transition. Makes one wonder. It's truly a small world even in a city big as Chicago.
Life goes on, no matter the song on the radio that in a flash brings back a tender and kind moment shared with someone who touched our lives so profoundly. So much for closed doors.
posted by Matthew Cortez at 4/21/2006 09:54:00 AM
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