Sunday, October 18, 2015

Out and About

I will nickname him "Home." I have another name for him, but only those closest to me ever get to hear me call him that. Home is at the essence though. I have not written in a very long time. Or in not in any substantive way. It's actually his fault. I have fallen so much into his love that I did not want to expose it or put words to it. There are things about the way we are that sometimes need to be safely locked away.

As an audience you know me to be non-monogamous. Nothing has changed here. Except it has. My world is expanding. Rapidly. I said to him today that I wanted to get back to writing. He said are you going to write about me? He looked hopeful. I said, "I don't think so," not knowing that it was finally time to come out. I had stopped writing because he was becoming my world. I write about my world. I did not want to share the intensity and the fear and the excitement that I had been going though. Plus half you guys are coming from okc, and really, do you want to hear how amazingly, horrifyingly in love I am?

I am a relationship counsellor. Every day I have couples in my office looking to me to help them reconnect. My floor is littered with pieces of hearts and stained in tears. I talk about vulnerability and radical honesty. About how we bond when we lay our darkest thoughts at the feet of our partners and they reach down and pick them up and tell you that they love even this part of you. This is what he does for me. He loves the darkest part of me. He has the key to the last tiny closet that holds that bit of me that I never wanted to show.

Yesterday I felt like bolting. Like a wild horse, crazed by the confines of the stall. "Let me go," I said to him, but he says what he always says, "No baby, you don't get to run." He takes out the key and opens the closet and reaches in. "This in here is mine. I get to love all of your bits. Even this bit."

We share a house now. My daughter and dog have adopted him instantly. Like he has always been here. "You were made for me," he sometimes whispers in my ear.  I hand him the key and think he is right. It's time I start writing about my world again. So it was time to introduce you to my Home.

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