Rainy Day Bus Ride

“That’s my husband,” said the woman on the bus as she gathered her things, nodding her head towards the man who was waiting on the curb, standing with an umbrella in the rain. “I just haven’t married him yet.”

That’s like me and the vet; only with us, there’s no yet.

Just the thought of marriage flashes “H-e-double-toothpicks-capital-N-O” in neon blinking lights inside of me and it has ABSOLUTELY NOTHING to do with love… there’s legally binding fine print on those marriage certificates that I object to, oft writ in invisible ink. I’m not signing anything that will make me financially responsible for the acquired debts of another full grown, independently minded, adult human for rest of their natural life, or the duration of the marriage, whichever comes first. Been there twice, not doing it again.

As for the Old G, he’s got his own reasons. He will tell people (usually other men) that I am his wife, but that is just talk. He has never been married and has no intention of marrying me.

So, that’s one thing we are in agreement about, one of those surprises of something in common considering that we are polar opposites.

We don’t take a lot of selfies together… this one was snapped downtown, good year or two ago as I obviously was not exactly sober.

I avoid being photographed.

He’s the one who is snap happy… he likes to take selfies, photos of grandchildren, flowers, birds, squirrels, toy cars, what’s on the grill, his plate, whatever.

I scroll down Facebook some days and say whoa… that’s my messy room in that photo and there’s my pink bra in the background of a shoe shot, and oh my gosh… that’s the inside of my refrigerator, a close-up of banana pudding with a one word description: GOOD.

We are good together. That surprises me as I thought our differences would get in the way, that he would soon tire of me, or I wouldn’t be able to handle being in a relationship after being on my own for so many years.

I don’t know what the future holds, life has a tendency to spin on dimes, so all we can do is live life raw, real, and right now.

Thanks for reading!

Photo credit: banana pudding shot swiped off his Facebook page.

Birds & Spoons

A little birdie reminded me of New Year’s Eve. Actually, it was a neighbor lady. We were sitting outside on a courtyard bench, chatting like old birds while little city birds darted around us, searching the bricks for crumbs.

“You’ve got a good fellow,” she said. “I’m really glad you got together, wasn’t sure there for awhile. I remember the day you were dressed up nice and going somewhere, you walked that way and he stayed here. It was New Year’s Eve and I could tell.” She paused to give me a hard look before confiding, “I heard what you said. You didn’t see me, but you walked passed me and I heard you say, ‘I deserve better’ and thought uh-oh, she is not happy.”

Uh-oh, note to self: stop thinking out loud.

I wasn’t sure there for awhile myself, but I did not tell her that. I just told her that I wasn’t happy that night but it worked out okay; he caught up with me later, found me in a coffee shop.

I showed her pictures of the house and assured her that I will not be a stranger, after all, my “fellow” has an apartment in this building. That could be a perk after I move since there is no night service on the bus route near the house. I can come downtown for art shows and poetry readings or whatever, just stay at his place, catch a bus in the morning instead of paying for a taxi ride home. He won’t mind… actually, it was his suggestion.

Some people are surprised that he is not moving with me, considering that we practically live together now. We talked about it… bottom line is we both need space. Here, we each have our own apartment. We are not together 24/7/365… I believe that’s what makes this relationship work.

We are polar opposites. Our life styles are very different. I’m a Maker, he’s not… so I need time and space to make art, bead jewelry, write, sew, crochet, or whatever and he needs time and space to do non-maker things like lounge around in his shorts all day watching sports, cartoons, or movies on television while playing games on his cell phone between naps.

That’s not all he does, but see what I mean? If he moved in with me, all the little things that don’t matter now suddenly will… we would get on each other’s nerves something fierce.

He has voiced his own concerns, mainly his fear of ending up homeless if he gave up his apartment to move in with me. Part of me wants to reassure him that I would never just kick him out, but a little birdie whisper stops me. I cannot guarantee that I will never say those fateful words. What if he turns into a royal ass?

I guess I’m still not sure of anything. This is life lived raw, right here, right now. I don’t know what tomorrow will bring so I just cherish the moments, love with open hands… not sure what to hold on to… even friendship flies away.

Speaking of little birdies… I was treated to lunch at the Mocha House the other day and my sister’s fiance gifted us both with measuring spoons. She picked spoons with bluebirds of happiness, quite fitting as she seems very happy these days, and I picked this set. Thank you Jai and Brian Sha!

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Please ignore my distorted reflection in the leaf shaped bowls. I snapped the photo with my tablet.

Thanks for reading!