Living Out

I refused to start an argument today.  Or participate in one.  The day started pretty nice, for a change in the weekend routine.  I hate weekends, but today wasn't so bad, except that I didn't get to speak with someone very special on the phone, as I have grown to look forward to.  But waking up nice made me more committed to keeping it nice.  I usually wake up to infuriated bellowing from downstairs.  Thank God, and spouse, that today was different.

The bait I refused to take had to do with how well he knows me.  I have been allergic to blue and green soaps for years.  Not the coloring they use in them, but the scents that always get put into soaps of those colors.  We have had nice long discussions and even a fight or two over why I won't buy Zest or Irish Spring.  Today he simply had no clue about it, and I had to explain it all over again.

We were discussing how to handle the holidays this year, and he mentioned how unimportant New Year's Eve is to me, how I never want to do anything but stay at home with something soothing to drink.  I looked at him with my mouth wide open.  I beg him to take me out, every year.  One year we even managed it, though I got sick halfway through the evening (first trimester of pregnancy) and so didn't stay up to midnight.  Where did he get the idea that it wasn't important to me?

Abrupt change of subject.

"Do you actually live out that lifestyle?"  It was a question asked of me a couple weeks ago, by someone very precious to me, about polyamory.  I honestly had no idea what he was asking at the time.  Live out?  I live my life, in or out.  What is here is what there is.  If I say it here, then it's the absolute truth, far as I know it.

Now I realize it was a question asked by someone for whom life in cyberspace and life in meatspace are utterly separate.  He was asking if love in here, on the net, translates as love offline, which might result in lovemaking.  The question was meaningless to me at the time because these lives are so melded together for me that it really is one thing: Life.

The question has two answers, depending on whether you take it on the practical side or the hypothetical side.  Practially speaking, no, I don't "live out" my loves in the flesh, simply because my loves are living in places like Oregon and Texas, and I can't get out there to demonstrate my love.  Hypothetically speaking, yes, I do live out that life, because I carry them in my heart everywhere I go, and if I ever got the chance, I would show it.

The realization of what the question really meant came hard.  It meant tears, because it came in a discussion between me and this beloved soul whom I thought had understood me.  It meant tears for both of us, for I didn't realize that he sees love, and its expressions, as a supply/demand relationship.  Meaning that one person should be able to supply the other with both the quantity and the quality of love needed so that no other person is ever required, and vice versa.

I see love as a unique thing with each individual, and something that multiplies with the sharing.  I see each person I love as a star in my sky, none of which can take the place of another, none of which can diminish the brightness of another.  I see myself as a star in other people's skies, sharing constellations with all the ones they love, secure that noone can take my place nor diminish me.  And so we each increase the light in one another's skies.

For all I know, everyone sees love in different ways.  His definition,  or my definition, may not apply for other people.  Who's to say who is right or wrong; likely there is no right or wrong in this.

He is willing to try to understand how it is with me, which is truly a blessing, for I fear I nearly lost him.  Neither of us can change who we are, but maybe if we understand each other well enough, and we are utterly honest with each other, I think it will be ok.  I pray for that.