Archive for the ‘re-partnering’ Category

The sun

One of the things I missed most when I was alone was the private jokes of being in a couple. Now I’m with him I love all the code, the language, the memories, the flaws, the references and insights.

Like, whenever he plays my favourite Nina Simone record, Here Comes the Sun I have to wonder have I been bad-tempered, anxious or is it just a good album?

And when he compliments me I say, oh yes the sun is shining again.


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Reasons to be apart: being sick, being tired, staying up late, skipping dinner, having my period and not wanting to tell someone I have my period, not shaving my legs/painting my nails/brushing my hair/pulling my stomach in when I’m naked, being lazy, being bad-tempered, letting ex-boyfriends text me, spending time with friends, masturbating before sleep, wearing PJs, being with my kids, writing. None of this I say; all of this I summarise as ‘being alone’. Why do you need all this time alone, he asks.

Reasons to be together: I love him, I want him, he doesn’t like when we’re apart.

(Notes from last year).

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I think, I never want to go through the pain of tearing a relationship apart, again. But I also think, I never again want to resist it either. If the coming apart is to be done, let us throw ourselves to it.

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Being in a new relationship you think all the examination will be of the other person and whether this or that is what you want and expect and need. But a surprising amount of the review turns out to be of myself and whether I am doing what I want and expect and need.

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I came after the mad one.

The bar was low. I can’t help but do better. But then again, I’ve had to correct all her mistakes.

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One day one of my single mother friends sees me at a Christmas party and I am introducing her to Seth. We’ve just moved in together. “You did it”, she says, “congratulations”.

Were we trying to do this? Was the solitude, and love of it, that she and I spoke about not genuine?

“What’s it like to be living with a man again?”

Good. And strange. All the negotiation. I forgot how tiring the negotiation is.

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Follow kindness.

In the first year of being together Seth cleaned up my son’s vomit, bought my daughter a book series he enjoyed, disposed of a dead thing the cat brought in before I’d be faced with it, grew a beard for me, learned to bake creme caramel for me (made it salted, just for me), picked up a million new vegetarian recipes, drew pictures for my children that he framed and hung on their walls, chased snakes from my garden, posed naked for me while I drew, weeded gardens, took my kids out drawing with him after school, took my kids out skating with him after school, put up shelves in my kitchen, took shelves down and moved them slightly over that way when I changed my mind, watched the films I like to watch, loved my borscht, brought his heater over when I was cold, cooked dinner parties for my friends and me, carried boxes for me, bought me a necklace, a book and lots of lingerie, left me love notes with foxes he drew on them, calmed me, was patient with me, trusted me, opened himself to me, gave me space and dived in head first.

It was kindness I was looking for by the time I met Seth, and it was kindness that first drew me to him when he introduced himself.

Kindness, which is really a kind of wisdom and awe.






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He reminds me he’s willing to help in any way that he can.

This is supposed to be comforting but actually it feels like a reminder. Memo to me: don’t lose your car again, don’t be a single mother, don’t work so far away in the city. To Do List: remember to thank people for their help, feel less trapped, regain independence.

He groans in irritation.

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File it under men who think it is no big deal that you did their washing for them. When actually, you want to say. You don’t live with a man and haven’t for a couple of years now and you work, parent, run a house by yourself and so, doing someone’s washing is a very big deal. 

File it under men who cook for you. Under men who learn vegetarian recipes. Under men who have never dated vegetarians before. Under men who have exclusively dated vegetarians.

File it under men who love to eat pussy and think they’re the only one.

File it under men who sulk when you’re the one turning yourself inside out to see them.

File it under men who text you to tell you they’re calling you – they don’t ask, they tell you – even though you left them ages ago. Under other men who motion you over to your own fence by saying “come here, you’re not in trouble”.

(Note: not written about current events in my life).


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