Stay With Me
On mating for life: you would die for your love. You would kill to protect them. You would do anything in your power, short of bad behavior in general, to keep them by your side.
Yet you must be ready at any time to let go of them, to let them fly free, to watch them large and alone and beautiful on the horizon, and that must be OK. They have to know that at any time you'll gladly and lovingly let them go, when they're ready, if the time comes, when the time's right.
And there are humans out there who don't believe in paradox, in ambiguity, in dwelling constantly in inner contradiction.
I am trying to be comfortable. Normally we breezily speak of the fact that because we love each other we would separate if that were the path before us. No clinging, no drama, no ugliness in trying to retain the company of someone who can no longer fulfill the role of constant companion. It would suck, yes, but we've promised each other that we would let go. We say contentedly that we stay together not because we're legally bound, but because we wish to - we like cohabiting and mutually loving. We like our lives together, knowing each others' ways and habits. We get each other, mostly. We agree on many important things, and our disagreements are few and not that fundamental. We like our arrangement. We're proud of ourselves for our enlightened marital philosophy.
And this weekend I got a glimpse, just a flicker, of what it feels like to actually, truly ponder what it would be like to really let go. (Be not alarmed, Dear Reader. Nothing's changed. This is all a result of a purely hypothetical conversation of What We Would Do If We Could.) For my love to need space, lots of it, for a long time, and for me to have to say, "Fly away, with joy. I will wait for you. I'm proud of you." I handled it badly. I let Ramon's hypothetical dreaming, instead of just a dream, become an abandonment of Us, The Holy Diune Ramon and Cerise. I wept and stuttered and walked home on trembly knees. I didn't cling or plead, thank god. I said the words I've always wished I'd say in such a situation, but through tears and shock, which distressed my lover.
Faugh. Hypothetical marital conflict abetted by a hangover. Makes him careless and me lugubrious.
Cerise
01-09-2007 Addendum: after speaking about it R. and I agreed that though there are a multitude of ways to say "Go do what you have to do, I love you, now go." (and god knows I've used nearly half of them in this post alone), there's only one way to ask your love to stay with you, and that is "Please stay with me." It sounds lame, but it's profound to ask it of your spouse (especially after the aforementioned touchy and disastrous weekend discussion) and be asked it in return.
Yet you must be ready at any time to let go of them, to let them fly free, to watch them large and alone and beautiful on the horizon, and that must be OK. They have to know that at any time you'll gladly and lovingly let them go, when they're ready, if the time comes, when the time's right.
And there are humans out there who don't believe in paradox, in ambiguity, in dwelling constantly in inner contradiction.
I am trying to be comfortable. Normally we breezily speak of the fact that because we love each other we would separate if that were the path before us. No clinging, no drama, no ugliness in trying to retain the company of someone who can no longer fulfill the role of constant companion. It would suck, yes, but we've promised each other that we would let go. We say contentedly that we stay together not because we're legally bound, but because we wish to - we like cohabiting and mutually loving. We like our lives together, knowing each others' ways and habits. We get each other, mostly. We agree on many important things, and our disagreements are few and not that fundamental. We like our arrangement. We're proud of ourselves for our enlightened marital philosophy.
And this weekend I got a glimpse, just a flicker, of what it feels like to actually, truly ponder what it would be like to really let go. (Be not alarmed, Dear Reader. Nothing's changed. This is all a result of a purely hypothetical conversation of What We Would Do If We Could.) For my love to need space, lots of it, for a long time, and for me to have to say, "Fly away, with joy. I will wait for you. I'm proud of you." I handled it badly. I let Ramon's hypothetical dreaming, instead of just a dream, become an abandonment of Us, The Holy Diune Ramon and Cerise. I wept and stuttered and walked home on trembly knees. I didn't cling or plead, thank god. I said the words I've always wished I'd say in such a situation, but through tears and shock, which distressed my lover.
Faugh. Hypothetical marital conflict abetted by a hangover. Makes him careless and me lugubrious.
Cerise
01-09-2007 Addendum: after speaking about it R. and I agreed that though there are a multitude of ways to say "Go do what you have to do, I love you, now go." (and god knows I've used nearly half of them in this post alone), there's only one way to ask your love to stay with you, and that is "Please stay with me." It sounds lame, but it's profound to ask it of your spouse (especially after the aforementioned touchy and disastrous weekend discussion) and be asked it in return.
posted by Cerise at 9:21 AM
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