![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
talktoolooseI'm lying low in recovery mode. This was a really stressful week.
Monday to Wednesday in the office: not only has my friend MF left the company, but now the senior graphic designer has announced her resignation. She will be continuing to work for us from home as a freelance designer, but she will not be in regularly. We are training up to casual work replacements who can be on call for our needs (or not, I suppose, if they're too busy) and we are planning to hire a production manager who can also do production.
Hilariously, it's clear the the company would love someone who doesn't have all those artistic pretensions the rest of the design department has. heh. They'll just want to work and organize and keep regular hours. Sounds like he/she will be fun to have around. But I am the stalwart, I suppose, and I will have to bear the weight of continuity. I don't wanna.
Thursday, Friday I had to get the music work for my sister done to a tight deadline with lots of last minute changes pouring in. In between, Snake and I had more shattering "discussions" about the future of our relationship. I think he is reacting badly to his salary cut (who wouldn't?) and the general feeling that his career is going nowhere and that he has never been appreciated for his skills as a teacher. My listing suggestions of options led him to comment acidly, "I don't want more job possibilities; I want justice."
I made him more upset by suggesting he look into teaching elementary grades at a private school. It makes all kinds of sense to me as he is an excellent teacher who would like to work in an environment where there is commitment to quality and dedication (sadly lacking all too often in the underfunded public schools). I asked both our neighbour, who teaches at a private school, and![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
snowmit who works at another to keep an eye peeled for openings. Snake freaked out at the idea of being in an enclave of privilege. After 12 years of excellent teaching, he still harbours the fear that he will be found out: that someone will realize he's just an immigrant fraud who misspells words sometimes and he'll be humiliated.
I am blaming this shifting ground for the fight we had on Thursday night, but that would also be me not taking responsibility for my part in it. The truth is, life is crisis. You would be a fool not to ask yourself if you're making mistakes. It just feels more acute sometimes. One of his best friends in Hungary just left her boyfriend of seven years and he imagines the freedom from the daily annoyances and the pet peeves such a move would create.
I understand -- I find myself daydreaming of new lovers sometimes. And it's always that wonderful initial falling in love that I imagine; that discovery of a new world, that revelation of parts of yourself that shine when reflected off the shiny face of novelty.
But newness is a thin veneer. Love lives in the quotidian. Love lives in the habit and the determination. Love lives in questioning love and finding it worth the trouble. Whenever we have a fight like this (and there has been about one a month lately) I go through the exercise of imagining life without him. And it has its appeal. But then I walk through our house and think of what we have done, what we will do, and I make the foods we found and invented, and I think about when we will plant this year's basil and of the pesto we'll bottle for the winter. I think about the progress of the dog and the aging of the cat. I think about the drama of our individual families and the cast of characters they form at the periphery of our union.
That is too rich a tapestry to walk out on. It is too exciting to live it. It is too tragic to put down the book in the middle, even if the end must be about loss and death.
And for what? To start a new book? They will pile up beside my bed, each with its demi-weight of blank pages and unfinished tales. I'm not interested. The realization of mortality is the understanding that we only get one life. The doors begin to close and we must choose them with a combination of determination and blind resignation.
I love him and I will not be parted from him. That is something to hold onto.
Monday to Wednesday in the office: not only has my friend MF left the company, but now the senior graphic designer has announced her resignation. She will be continuing to work for us from home as a freelance designer, but she will not be in regularly. We are training up to casual work replacements who can be on call for our needs (or not, I suppose, if they're too busy) and we are planning to hire a production manager who can also do production.
Hilariously, it's clear the the company would love someone who doesn't have all those artistic pretensions the rest of the design department has. heh. They'll just want to work and organize and keep regular hours. Sounds like he/she will be fun to have around. But I am the stalwart, I suppose, and I will have to bear the weight of continuity. I don't wanna.
Thursday, Friday I had to get the music work for my sister done to a tight deadline with lots of last minute changes pouring in. In between, Snake and I had more shattering "discussions" about the future of our relationship. I think he is reacting badly to his salary cut (who wouldn't?) and the general feeling that his career is going nowhere and that he has never been appreciated for his skills as a teacher. My listing suggestions of options led him to comment acidly, "I don't want more job possibilities; I want justice."
I made him more upset by suggesting he look into teaching elementary grades at a private school. It makes all kinds of sense to me as he is an excellent teacher who would like to work in an environment where there is commitment to quality and dedication (sadly lacking all too often in the underfunded public schools). I asked both our neighbour, who teaches at a private school, and
snowmit who works at another to keep an eye peeled for openings. Snake freaked out at the idea of being in an enclave of privilege. After 12 years of excellent teaching, he still harbours the fear that he will be found out: that someone will realize he's just an immigrant fraud who misspells words sometimes and he'll be humiliated.I am blaming this shifting ground for the fight we had on Thursday night, but that would also be me not taking responsibility for my part in it. The truth is, life is crisis. You would be a fool not to ask yourself if you're making mistakes. It just feels more acute sometimes. One of his best friends in Hungary just left her boyfriend of seven years and he imagines the freedom from the daily annoyances and the pet peeves such a move would create.
I understand -- I find myself daydreaming of new lovers sometimes. And it's always that wonderful initial falling in love that I imagine; that discovery of a new world, that revelation of parts of yourself that shine when reflected off the shiny face of novelty.
But newness is a thin veneer. Love lives in the quotidian. Love lives in the habit and the determination. Love lives in questioning love and finding it worth the trouble. Whenever we have a fight like this (and there has been about one a month lately) I go through the exercise of imagining life without him. And it has its appeal. But then I walk through our house and think of what we have done, what we will do, and I make the foods we found and invented, and I think about when we will plant this year's basil and of the pesto we'll bottle for the winter. I think about the progress of the dog and the aging of the cat. I think about the drama of our individual families and the cast of characters they form at the periphery of our union.
That is too rich a tapestry to walk out on. It is too exciting to live it. It is too tragic to put down the book in the middle, even if the end must be about loss and death.
And for what? To start a new book? They will pile up beside my bed, each with its demi-weight of blank pages and unfinished tales. I'm not interested. The realization of mortality is the understanding that we only get one life. The doors begin to close and we must choose them with a combination of determination and blind resignation.
I love him and I will not be parted from him. That is something to hold onto.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-03-19 10:21 pm (UTC)These thoughts on love really resonate. Thank you for them.
Also, they read really pretty.
Wow.
no subject
Date: 2005-03-20 12:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-20 02:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-20 04:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-20 05:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-20 09:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-20 02:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-20 04:08 am (UTC)Weirdly enough, the periods of greatest relationship instability also seem to coincide with a lot of overt displays of love. I take that to mean that though we are grappling with issues, the fundamentals remain solid.
no subject
Date: 2005-03-20 03:21 pm (UTC)But I come home every day, because the only person I want to see after a good or bad day at work is my honey. Only she can fill that space.
no subject
Date: 2005-03-21 04:01 pm (UTC)Thank You
Date: 2005-03-20 08:38 am (UTC)Re: Thank You
Date: 2005-03-23 01:43 am (UTC)Re: Thank You
Date: 2005-03-23 04:58 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-20 01:06 pm (UTC)1) One of the things I have always admired about you - and one of the things I find most attractive about you - is your ability to face the difficult issues and describe them with honesty, elegance and eloquence. Snake is a lucky man to have you as a partner. What the two of you have is too strong to be upset by a bump in the road. in fact, I suspect, quite the opposite - that your relationship is made stronger by difficult moments because the fundamental connection is there.
2) The timing was interesting for me. I had been to a chamber music concert (about which I will write in my own LJ entry) with a good friend. This was the first time I had seen him since I got back from St Lucia and he chose the occasion to tell me all about a brief but hot affair he had with his wife's best friend when his wife was way on a business trip. The trigger was my comment that my trip had been an experience that will stay with me as one of the best of my life and he launched into a very detailed description of an experience (the affair) that was that for him. It suprised me becuase we have not had quite the level of friendship that has included that depth of expression about feelings. He talked about the passion (in a LOT of detail) of the week they spent together three and a half years ago and how he has not been able to get it out of his mind. He talked about how he would hve left his wife (of 35 years) if the friend had asked to but that she didn't ask. He talked about how he cried for weeks and let his wife believe it was he was upset about the events of Sept 11. Normally I welcome this kind of confession from friends, but this one has put me in an awkward position - his wife is my boss and I had accompanied her on that business trip.
So, your comments about daydreaming of new lovers and finding the meaning of long lasting love were quite timely. I think I will try to find an opportunity to talk to him some more about it and share some of your insights into the meaning of deeper love.
no subject
Date: 2005-03-20 03:54 pm (UTC)I "met" you through reading talktooloose's post, and reading your journal. I think you might enjoy reading mine. Would you like to be "friends"?
no subject
Date: 2005-03-20 04:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-21 04:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-21 04:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-23 01:41 am (UTC)Don't be offended; it's not a big precise process for me. I'm glad you're reading my journal and commenting. You have good things to say. EXCEPT THAT MY DOG HAS ME TRAINED. I happen to be the one in charge of his... hold it, he's asking to go out. Didn't I just let him in...?
no subject
Date: 2005-03-21 04:21 pm (UTC)2) That's an awkward position to find oneself in. You'd be WELL within your rights to say, "I don't want to hear anymore about this." Feel free to share my thoughts, but he may not welcome them.
hang in there
Date: 2005-03-23 09:34 am (UTC)So hang on to what you got, I say, or choose to be completely free. I'm hpong you hang in there with the Snake of course.
Hugs,
Cody
Lotta that 'goin 'round
Date: 2005-03-29 05:46 pm (UTC)Anywho, your post was sublime. Having lived through 7 years with SilverBolt, the last 3 of them in marriage counseling, I've mulled over a lot about why I held on the year and a half he was gone and why I rescued him and took him back after his last crash and burn. You say so eloquently a number of the conclusions I'd come to on my own. I knew for certain that if I traded him in, I truly would have ended up with him again, just with another face and name. My 2 very short LTR's before him were him anyway.
It seems I take me with me wherever I go, so I might as well work on my 'unfinished business' (as my first counselor called it) with someone who knows me well as opposed to a shiny new one who'll soon remove his mask anyway. The person underneath always bears a remarkable resemblance to my Dad, in all his emotionally-unavailable glory.
Seems as if I'm still that little boy, much more often than I'd like to be, wanting Daddy to hold me and love me and tell me I'm a good boy. Sigh....
Looking forward to seeing you the end of next month.
Re: Lotta that 'goin 'round
Date: 2005-03-29 08:10 pm (UTC)Interesting how you keep ending up in a position of having to take care of your dad when what you really want is him to hold you.
*sadness ahead*
I am not coming to mensfest this year. I'm in NYC the week before and I can't do two weekend trips in a row. Damnation. Come up to Toronto sometime. You can stay with me.