I asked my Lover to buy a one-way ticket to Paris, so that I could pretend he was here to stay for good.
I had been cautioned, by many of the people who read petite anglaise and wish me well, that after the desolate lows of last week, I should be aware that spending time with my Lover would no doubt prove to be a palliative therapy, relieving the symptoms and reducing the suffering without curing the root causes. Problems would be forgotten, temporarily, but would not miraculously dissipate.
They were not wrong.
I spent a simply heavenly weekend in his company. The most mundane things, like shopping for food in the supermarket, or fetching a DVD, were blissful. We talked. We strolled around my neighbourhood. We went to bed at unlikely times of day. Happiness was pottering in my flat, knowing he was in the next room making a cup of tea.
Sometimes I almost had to pinch myself to see whether it was all real. I think he felt the same. A couple of months ago all he knew of me was what I had written. Now there he was in my apartment, contemplating the strangely familiar view from my balcony, known to him previously only as the header image at the top of this page.
I was however conscious of the demons lurking just on the periphery of my vision. I would catch sight of them, fleetingly, out of the corner of my eye, and knew they were waiting to pounce in a moment of vulnerability.
From time to time I would wobble dangerously: some trifling thing would bring sudden, unnecessary tears to my eyes and my spirits would plummet. A sensation of falling, similar to that which I get sometimes when hovering between sleep and wakefulness, ‘landing’ on my bed with a sudden jolt. I was torn between attempting to put on a brave face for my Lover, or baring my soul and running the risk of wounding him, making him feel powerless. Because even when he is with me, holding me in his strong arms, and not stranded at the other end of a phone line, there is only so much he can do to help.
I chose honesty. Because that is what we do best. Love might not make me invincible, but as long as I am mindful of this, and know that I do still need to exorcise my demons without his help, we can weather this storm together.
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Well the big question of course is: How did he respond to your honesty? Was he supportive, defensive, etc.? When fantasy life and real life collide, it is much like two galaxies colliding; there will be remnants of both swept aside, but remants of both that form new realities. What do you think has happened to you?
Comment by Dave of the Lake — July 25, 2005 @ 3:24 pm
True love understands insanity. I’m forever apologizing for being crazy to my boyfriend but he doesn’t seem to mind. Love is not the cure, rather the strength and support to find the cure on your own. (I should send that to Hallmark)
Comment by Leslie — July 25, 2005 @ 3:34 pm
You wobbled but you didn’t fall down! :)
Comment by Bob — July 25, 2005 @ 3:52 pm
*sigh* I really envy you your ability to externalise stuff through writing, Petite. I’ve often tried, but it just doesn’t work for me – it sounds too intellectual and essayish. It must really be therapeutic…and then you can read it a few months later and have a really good laugh! :)
Comment by Lucy-Jane in Rennes — July 25, 2005 @ 4:05 pm
Petite, I’m sure things will turn out fine, but don’t expect too much too soon. Two months in a relationship, however intense, is not long enough to develop the feelings of stability and confidence you crave, understandably after all that has been happening in yiour life over the past year or so. There must be lots more sharing to experience, many more partings and joyful reunifications,lots more subtle bonding before the demons are put to rout!
I can’t help thinking how much your present circumstances reflect the way that society has changed over the past few decades. Once,it was so much more simple! Courtship led to engagement and then, unless things fell apart, to marriage, BEFORE, children were produced rather than after. Separation, divorce and re-marriage, or subsequent relationships, were the exception rather than the rule……….there was always this belief that the preservation of the marriage for the security of children mattered more than the wish-fulfillment of the partners, so there was much greater commitment to working out differences and disagreements rather than splitting up and going separate ways when problems occurred, as they always do………
I’m not saying that this set of conventions was better, that depended on the partners in the marriage, but it was certainly different to today’s norms! Today, relationships develop into ‘partnerships’, children are often reared before marriage, or without partners ever marrying,
and everyone retains their cherished ‘feedom’ and ‘independence’. Or do they? I wonder how many ‘single somethings’, doing their utmust to combine working life with bringing up their own precious ‘Tadpoles’ find that the pressures of coping with all that brings are not what they really wanted…. especially if they are without the support that ‘Newman’ has brought to your life? Again,I want to stress that I’m not advocating a return to days before women’s lib,or suggesting that ‘things were better then’. In many respects they were not, and women were often subjugated. I always believe that society continues to move forward and never back. I delight in the much greater freedom of women, at work and in society, but, for some, the costs are very real. Life is never fair and for all the greater freedom and independence that women have gained, they still seem, too often, to get the worst end of the deal!
Comment by Fella — July 25, 2005 @ 4:26 pm
beautifully written as always. Hope that the light continues to brighten for you Petite.
x
Comment by Anne — July 25, 2005 @ 4:56 pm
Well if you can’t tell him what this is really about, maybe you could try telling your guardian angels
Comment by Parkin Pig — July 25, 2005 @ 5:27 pm
……..starting with me.
Comment by parkin pig — July 25, 2005 @ 5:58 pm
Petite, stick to the truth. Without it no relationship really works well or lasts in my experience.
If Newman can’t take the truth, then he is not good enough.
When the gilt wears off the gingerbread, without truth what is there?
Comment by Keith — July 25, 2005 @ 7:19 pm
Weebles wobble but they do go down!
Comment by Prawn Cocktail Crisps — July 25, 2005 @ 9:09 pm
Excuse me but I’m *trying* to be serious here PCC. It’s a smutty double entendre free zone.
ahem
Comment by petite — July 25, 2005 @ 10:43 pm
what I’m worried about is the state your appartment will be left in. You once mentioned that Mr Lurverman had previously been to your flat just the once, for the briefest of visits, yet he’d left his “watermark” everywhere.
Now that he has been there for a whole weekend, and been allowed to potter and even make tea in the kitchen, I dread to think of the mess. Blue shorts strewn all over the place must be the least of it ….
Comment by Mancunian Lass — July 25, 2005 @ 11:03 pm
I do wish people didn’t refer to your new love as ‘Newman’, because I keep gettting an image of Newman from the Jerry Seinfeld show and it ain’t pretty. I’m not too sure about Mr Lurverman either.
Comment by Ruth — July 26, 2005 @ 12:28 am
we’re even more powerless without the truth. if he doesn’t know the situation then he is even more unable to help/comfort
Comment by mainja — July 26, 2005 @ 4:48 pm
comment to fella, and there certainly was a lot of valium usage in the ’50’s mother’s little helper….
Comment by tango her eyes — July 26, 2005 @ 6:06 pm
I may be missing the obvious here but…. if Newman was first attracted by Petite writing a blog one ought to presume that he still knows at least as much as her other readers. Also, he sounds very sympathetic to her needs. It will all work out for the best…
Comment by Meredic Hallett — July 27, 2005 @ 11:04 am