Monday, Jan. 09, 2006
The Relative Theory Of Socks On The Floor
Back to the grindstone today. As much as I enjoy my job, this morning I didn't want to leave home. MC got up before I left to make sure I didn't go to work without a hug and a kiss. (Yes, yes, you may now commence with the "awww's." God knows I have, over and over again.)
My sis and her fiancee finally came up here to visit yesterday, their first visit since I moved here in May. While I'd be nuts about MC in any event, it didn't hurt that sis is the third person who, the instant MC walked out of the room, leaned over to say, "Oh man, he's one NICE looking man!" (Or some variation thereof, anyway.) I happen to agree wholeheartedly. It helps that he's losing some of the haunted look that was in his eyes when I first met him, though he was hardly an ugly duckling even then.
No, boys and girls, things were not easy for MC before I came into the picture, either. Hence my original nickname for him. (For anybody just now tuning in, "MC" is a stand-in for "Mr. Complicated." Those aren't his actual initials.)
It didn't surprise me that he commented a few days ago on the atmosphere where we live, nor that I can see physically the changes in him even in this short time. Like me, he responded to a sense of calm that's palpable when you're here only a few days. I don't know if it's the forested hillsides, the clean air, the small-town mentality, the higher elevation, all of the above, or something indefineable. I just know that he's right. It's something that touches every cell within hours of your arrival, massaging away the callouses on your soul.
Whatever its origin, it's been a much-needed healing agent for us both.
Some things strike me as a little funny, if endearing.
MC is as polite to a fault, which in general is a good thing, though I need to remind him periodically that he doesn't have to ask my permission; that he's home and that some priviliges come naturally with that.
I understand his hesitation, given some elements of his past. It'll just take a while to break through the fears and insecurities. I went though a lot of the same experiences, and the subsequent hesitation to believe that the changes were real and lasting when they finally came. I know all too well what it's like, and know the pitfalls by heart. We've discussed them and both of us recognize the dangers of holding onto a past that is so full of pain, even to the point of clinging to bad habits and behaviors because they're familiar. Learning by heart takes a little longer, but we'll get there - both of us will.
I just hope when that day finally comes, I don't forget and complain about the socks on the floor. That's a euphemism. It refers to something a friend said about my youngest son once, right after I left my ex and pulled the kids out of a horrible situation. My friend said my six-year-old son was "too good." It wasn't a healthy good; it was the constantly-on-alert behavior indigenous to someone who's lived too long in a powderkeg and hadn't yet learned how to act naturally.
It's the same situation here. I don't want to lose sight of the fact when the inevitable real-life faults come out. This man is absolutely wonderful at a very deep level. Far too much so to let the socks on the floor become a significant issue.
Before - After
In the grander scheme of things, no soul can truly be replaced. Each one of us has a place in the universal tapestry. We each contribute our own color and texture. When one thread is snipped too soon, it distorts all the threads around it. Other lives can unravel and tear. If the wrong thread is ripped away, the whole fabric of life becomes dangerously fragile.
- LeiLani, aka Radiogurl aka Bright Opal (1957 - )