Posts tagged relationships
Posts tagged relationships
thinking about things that I wish I could have appreciated years ago…
The subway car was empty, save for me and my date and a few guys with guitars. Street performers. It was a first date, and it was my first time dating an older man—7 years senior to my 22-year-old self. I didn’t know what I was doing, I hadn’t been on many dates before, but I know how I felt when we caught eyes in the downtown D&G fitting room. He was fitting me for my first Dolce suit and as he was pinning up my hem, noticed the striped kitty socks I had tucked into my dress shoes. He looked up at me and laughed, and I melted. I’ve always been a sucker for chemistry. We walked across the city that night, from my Soho office, through Little Italy, to a tiny restaurant on 1st and 1st. He liked putting food in my mouth—feeding me. I still find it strange that men do this—like mama birds feeding their young—but I went with it. I figured maybe this is just something that older men do. I can’t remember where we went next, or how we ended up on a train headed for midtown, but we did…and the musicians were there…and they strummed the Bee Gees on their guitars…and that’s when he started to sing to me. He sang the whole song—how deep is your love. Oh my god. Is he really singing to me? out loud? Here, in this empty subway car? where anyone can walk in at any moment? Yes. This was happening. He was singing. He sang it until i buried my blushing face deep inside my sweater and prayed for it to end. It felt like it never would..and it didn’t…at least not until the song reached its final note. The doors opened and as I made my exit, I knew I would not be seeing him again.
Today as I was flipping through stations in my car and Andy Gibb sang out to me in a soulful castrato, once again questioning of the depth of my love, I realized that that night and that experience is forever burned—BURNED—in my mind.
you are my everything…
I can’t think of a better place to keep you.
likes my cooking and thinks i’m beautiful and sings in the shower helps too :)
wait for the boy that would do anything to be your everything…
There are so many ways to physically connect with someone, but I always felt there’s just so much you give up when you hold someone’s hand. It feels almost like a whisper, something so private, often experienced in space that’s so public…for all to see, but shared between only two.
Like it’s our little secret…
Maybe it makes me old fashioned, but the palm-to-palm interaction—the affectionate linking-of-fingers—seems to me to require a certain closeness and a certain amount of trust.
65 years later, my nana can tell me exactly when my pop first held her hand. She can still affectionately reminisce about a sweet-sixteen he tagged along with her to, and how he reached out to hold her hand on the walk there…she laughs at my shock at the sheer boldness of it. There was no first date, they hadn’t been intimate at any time before…he just asked, “can I come?” and took her hand for the first time as he walked her to the party…and then he never let go.
There’s a symbolism in hand-holding. A wide-spread cultural understanding of togetherness, friendship, and/or affection. As much as it is a whisper, it is a billboard touting a bond between two people. Another reason I chuckled at my grandmother’s story. Pop was marking his territory.
I remember saying once, in a moment of vulnerability, “I’ve never gotten this far…I don’t know what comes next.” I really didn’t. I still don’t. In response I was told, “Just hold my hand…” and I wanted to. Those few words made my palms feel warm and then the rest of my body followed suit…and in my own little world of worry, I wore an uncontrollable grin…and I felt close, and I felt trust, and I knew I would be ok. That moment was just between us…that was my whisper—my “everything will be alright.” And when I finally allowed it, I believed it. That was an intimacy that I guess I needed. I think it even surprised me a bit.
Everyone’s got their one thing…the way they just know…for me, it’s always been the question, “do I want to hold your hand?”
i think you do…
You’re lucky if you have it in your life, but it’s something that i think a lot of us take for granted. You spend all this time searching, going through the motions, going through the idiots, and the jerks, and the ones that just don’t fit, one after the next after the next, hoping to get it right...hoping each time that this time it will stick…and then finally it does, but then what?
You forget how hard you searched, how much time and effort you put into making it happen, how much sleep you lost, how many disappointments, before one person turned your world around…and you return to life…now, if you’re lucky, with a partner in crime.
Just don’t forget to remember. Say thank you once in a while, do something special, take funny pictures, go somewhere new, celebrate your life together…the one you built…the one you so looked forward to having.
Sometimes I like to look at the successful relationships in my life—well, those I consider successful—and make note of how they get it right. My mom and dad did it right for ten years before life, and personal growth, and change got in the way, and I was too young to know what I was seeing, but since then, they each got it right, but separately.
There is one thing that I love about my dad (more than one thing, but one that I will talk about here), and if my step-mom is reading this, I will just apologize now for loving it so much. He laughs when she gets mad. Now, I’ve never seen her really get mad, but I have seen her annoyed and sometimes frazzled, and my dad has the greatest laugh in the world. It’s one of the happiest sounds I know, and when I see him laugh it off, I always think “I want that.”
I said tonight that my mom is a whirlwind…that’s because she is. I only write the truth Ma! She drives me crazy, she moves at a pace unmatched by even a cheetah, and sometimes just watching her will give me a headache…and her boyfriend doesn’t laugh at this (even though i do sometimes), he remains still, and he lets her run her circles…and somehow, they always end up in the same place…kind of like the tortoise and the hare. It’s a nice balance, and I’m glad they found each other, and even after a hundred years together, and all that insanity, they still hold hands. I want this too.
My sister and brother-in-law (who I usually refer to as my brother, but just realized, for those that don’t understand, that could make this story really gross), have one of the greatest relationships I have ever seen. They’ve been together FOREVER. Literally. Since they were 14 and 15 years old…high-school sweethearts...and in spite of the fact that the two grew up together, they have the most incredible respect for each other as individuals. They both work full-time jobs, and they are parents to the most awesomely talented kid in the world. My brother-in-law recently decided he wanted to become a triathlete, and he did. He runs and swims and bikes ALL.THE.TIME. My sister sometimes has to leave for job training for weeks at a time—sucks. But the two of them are wildly supportive of each other, and two of the best parents I have ever known…and the best part is, this is life-long love, and SO not the kind that makes you gag…how many people get to have that?
These three couples never seem to forget that before all the other stuff, they loved each other first. I’m glad I got to see it, and maybe, I will be this lucky too.