Writing - writing anything – is hard, sometimes. Sometimes
it just flows like a river, but right now the river is blocked. I am tempted to
say that I’m not sure why, but I have an idea. It’s stress and the source of
that stress is also known. Different people will phrase it in different ways,
but there are some unpleasant things in life we all must navigate from time to
time. Some of those things are universal, others are not, but the disruption
and stress that comes from them is unavoidable. We all have to face it. Right
now, I am in that mix, a “life on life’s terms” moment. This time it is the end
of an almost three-year relationship that included a little more than a year of
cohabitation. The specifics of what happened are not anything I need to, have
to nor am I willing to talk about. It’s not important. Navigating it is.
Since we combined two households into one, the logistical
issues of untangling a year-plus of entanglements is only part of the induced
stress. This is not the first time this has happened. My ill-advised and
ill-fated marriage ended in the dissolution of our cohabitation in this same
house. That situation was significantly different than this one – that
relationship ended due largely to many manifestations of dishonesty. It was
also different because I moved out (and half-way across the country), too. This
house was vacated and rented out for two years. Moving back to this house or
back to the Sacramento area was never a sure thing – indeed, at that time it
was a pretty sure non-thing. The passage of time softened my perception of what
“home” is.
While there is no shortage of pain and hurt this time, there
are also no “bad guys,” at least not from my perspective, I cannot and would
not speak for her. And what others think or believe is not only none of my
business – it’s none of theirs. Regardless,
suffice it to say that I did not enter this relationship (or any relationship)
with the intention of it ending it at some later date. I did not go through the
considerable time, work, expense and compromise of making my home our home
simply to go through more considerable time, work and expense to undo it. It
begs some obvious questions: Was cohabitating a good idea? Was getting into the
relationship at all a good idea? Further, if I was happy alone, or single, or
unattached, or however one wishes to categorize anyone who is not in a romantic
relationship, why take a risk with establishing one?
The answer to the first two questions is the same. Yes. It
was a good idea to both get into that relationship and cohabitate. When
applying the same two questions to that train-wreck marriage some years ago,
the answer to both is not no, but hell
no! Those were decidedly not good ideas and the signs were there. This time
that is not the case. It was a good relationship, but there were issues that
became intolerable. What those issues are, specifically, is not important. What
could have been done to ameliorate them before it became too late is only
important inasmuch as how it affects future actions and decisions. But that
last question is a good one. Why would I get into a relationship if life was so
good? If I was indeed “happy,” why take that risk (because entering any
relationship always has risk)?
First, there are numerous kinds of happiness, contentedness,
fullness and all sorts of other “nesses” that make up the substance of life.
While I was indeed very happy with my life prior to this relationship, and
especially in contrast to the storm I emerged from not too long before, I felt
that happiness could be enhanced, or take on a new dimension, with a partner.
It was a known risk. I thought long about whether I really wanted to make that
commitment again. I dragged my feet, I stalled, I had some serious reservations
about exposing myself to that kind of pain again. Perhaps due to the caution
and slow progression, I had time to notice that we always had a good time when
we were together. Ultimately, being together was good and made my otherwise
good life better. It extended the level of whateverness and created a newness.
Almost two years later, when the idea of living together was approached, I
didn’t even think twice about it. It seemed obvious.
I should have thought twice, at least, about it. That
doesn’t mean it was a bad idea, it doesn’t mean I regret the decision and it
doesn’t mean I would have come to a different conclusion. It only means that I
let emotion and the false narrative of “love is all you need” take an
unwarranted precedence over the decision. In fact, if I had entertained the
thought process of what could go wrong, it is possible that what went wrong
might have been avoided or, perhaps, effectively mitigated. There are new and
unknown factors that will necessarily materialize when such foundational
elements of a relationship change. But that still doesn’t entirely address the
last question.
There are two different ways of looking at what arrives at
the same paradigm of the “family unit.” We are “supposed” to be connected in a
romantic way to someone else. Where that comes from is likely part human
biology – an evolutionary response that secures the proliferation of our
species – as well as a social construct that drives us towards some connection.
Indeed, isn’t that where so much homophobia comes from? This idea that men and
women are “designed” to be together, to procreate, and anything that subverts
that social tradition represents some kind of threat. Of course, there are
numerous traditional relationship examples that contradict that “standard,” but
the tradition persists.
Maybe I was looking for my own place myself in that tradition,
too. I can’t count how many times, when I was unattached, someone would say, “you’ll
find someone,” as though it is some kind of ultimate goal. As much as I think
to think myself independent, a “loner,” and as much as I genuinely enjoy my
solitude, having that one special person to share life with, combined with that
social expectation, had an allure that was impossible to resist. Yet, to make
any union successful, certain sacrifices, compromises, concessions and
adaptations must be made. Unfortunately, even with a lot of foresight, planning
and thought, unknown and, ultimately unacceptable situations can arise. That
happened and although the positives were, in fact, positive, the negative could
not be brushed aside any longer. I thought I considered all the potential
“deal-breakers,” but this one I did not see coming until it was too late.
Unlike my short-lived marriage in 2012, I do not regret this
relationship at all. It added richness to my life. We had a lot of fun, too
many good times to list. It is sad that this fissure proved to wide to cross.
It seems the official cause of so many divorces bares the label, “irreconcilable
differences.” Usually that is code for something much more nefarious. Not this
time. Our differences are not evil, they are not deceitful, they are not
malicious and they are not adversarial. They are just incompatible. I wish they
were not.