Monday: He gets up. I want to stay in bed but now I can't fall back to sleep. Or, I get up and he wants to sleep, so I can't turn on NPR.
But, ah, breakfast!
I make myself French toast and a cappuccino and just as I'm about to sit down and enjoy reading the Times, he trots in and says, "Mm, that smells good."
So I offer him some of my breakfast because otherwise I'd feel guilty, but now I just feel hungry and my peaceful breakfast with quiet newspaper indulgence is spoiled. Funny, before my divorce I liked reading the paper in tandem.
I walk my dog Casey then return and set up outdoors to work on my laptop.
He asks if I want to bike along the river with him. I'm conflicted because a bike ride sounds great but so does my routine of working outdoors. Either way I'll regret that I've made the wrong choice.
The day rumbles along like this with either interruptions or too many choices. Lord knows there were enough choices before he came along. On the other hand, some of the choices I used to enjoy, like walking with friends, have been reduced because of the time I spend with him.
Nighttime draws nigh and there's the usual discussion of what, when and where to eat. He feels like going out. I always feel like eating home. He's hungry now and wants real food; I'm not and I don't; I just ate a chunk of dark chocolate, a handful of almonds and a large glass of milk, which is one of my best diet tips.
I long for the Monday nights before he came along when the second I got hungry I could stand by the kitchen TV watching "The Bachelorette," while whumping down a salade nicoise.
After dinner, he wants to settle in with cops and robbers or the local news on TV, but I don't like scary TV. Casey, who used to rest his head on my lap, jumps onto his lap.
A while later, one of us is ready to go to bed; the other isn't. One of us wants to have sex; the other doesn't.
He raises the thermostat. After his breathing shifts into slumber, I lower the thermostat.
Tuesday to Friday: It's the same. (He is retired.) Except Wednesday nights, during the season, I watch "Survivor" and he sulks.
Weekends aren't all that different, but after a lifetime of conditioning, they feel different. On Saturday night, he wants to go to dinner and/or a movie. I hate noisy eating and crowded theaters. It's a perfect night to be cozy at home.
There must be reasons people pair off into living spaces, but I can't remember what those reasons are.
What am I missing here? Do weigh in!
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Reading these articles in the Divorce section really make me glad I'm single & never married.
Where do you live? (jk)
That said, humans are so adaptable, so I think most of us can adapt to either being with someone or not.
I've lived with two men, one I married, and I have to say, that the reason to move in is the shared joys: making each other food, having someone to clean up the food you've made, someone to run by the store for that last ingredient, someone to convince that baseball/HGTV is awesome, someone to take care of you when you're sick, someone to go to make last second plans with, someone who will sleep with you even if they're not in the mood, and basically, someone who cares enough about you, like you care about them, to join in a shared life. If you prefer to be alone, I would be wary of moving in with someone before you've spent enough time with them to know their habits and to see if your lifestyles are compatible. You certainly wouldn't want to move in with someone who wants to spend every second of the day with you, only doing what they want.
Sure, there's the difficulties of our conflicting work schedules, but we just work around it. If you can't work around things or your partner's life style is annoying you, then it's time to move on.
at first it was distressing - although i'd always been independent, you get used to having another person in your life, even if it's problematic. it's taken all this time to take a breath, exhale and realize it's better to be content on your own than miserable with someone who mistreats you.
if i can imagine the perfect relationship - someone i like, who shares enough interests to be compatible and who's different enough to be adventurous. and who has his own place.
it's interesting to read similar thoughts here. maybe we're on to something.
Being in a compatible, healthy relationship tests and grows character: it's difficult to become too self-involved when sharing one's life with another in a healthy way. But bad relationships, with poor boundaries, will find the broken places in each person and exploit those. Selfish people become more self-absorbed, enablers become worse at taking care of themselves (which reminds me of one of my favorite quotes: "We are meant to serve, but we're not meant to be the main course."), etc.
Bad relationships suck the life out of us. But good ones make us be better and feel better.
There's a certain perverse pleasure in that, no?
http://www.soulprogress.com/html/ArticlesFolder/Articles/SpiritualSecret.shtml Thank you so much for addressing this subject so succinctly.
he isn't saying that love is ''evil'' per se, buddha was saying that attatchment is. (attatchment being self serving, love supposing to be selfLESS)
What if I meet a guy I like? is the first line.
This I do know about this guy: He would need to have a good sense of humor and be pretty intelligent. Also, be a decent, honest person who has some passions. Qualities a lot of women seek, I think.
Plus no one will ever love me as much as my dogs, they don't care what I eat as long as I share. I can live in shorts and tank tops, leave my hair in a disaster, watch stupid tv shows and burp all I want.
So I have no advice. But if he is worth the time to think about your differences, then he's worth keeping.
And, ah, the love of a dog. The excitement in my belly when I curl up with Casey is still there after 13 years!
Did I scare you off?