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Jan. 31st, 2003 09:01 pmSo, S. came over tonight for dinner, S. my dear old ex whom I haven't seen in a couple of months. He was, as always, loquacious, charming, full of stories, though many of them were about the illnesses and decline of those older than us (parents, relatives) and the egregious fuckwittedness of those younger than us (stepchildren, nieces/nephews). He and I are in the midlife lull, that becalmed stretch reaching into the 50s, while on both sides of us the other generations, those preparing to leave life and those just launching into it, are doing so with a fair amount of tumult and neediness.
He talked for a while about F., the woman he's been living with for a number of years now, and in between tales of how her father is lapsing into Alzheimer's and her son is back in drug rehab after blowing his parole, he said that he and F. are going to get married in July. I found myself immensely happy for him--for both of them--and terribly touched by this act of ... I don't know what to call it--faith? ordinary humanity? When S. and I were together, there was never any thought of marriage between us, we were young and reckless and all defying-of-convention. But we're older now, and I feel a deep gladness that he's found something he feels willing to anchor to, or rest upon. And he, in turn, seemed very happy to hear about my prospects of total life upheaval, and promised to come visit me, if I do get the job.
There are times when I think I've screwed up most of the things life has put in my path, but one thing I remain proud of, one thing I've managed to accomplish with some degree of grace, is this movement from being partners and lovers to being good friends. We don't see each other often, but there's a lovely mellowness between us, when we do meet, a kind of ease and comfort that I have with no one else. And I keep thinking that's no small accomplishment.
I don't regret that we broke up, all those years ago; it freed us each to take new directions in life, and those new directions have, on the whole, gone well. No regrets. But I'm terribly happy that we've been able to stay good friends, and to know that we'll always matter to each other. I find myself thinking Adulthood is a wonderful, wonderful thing, on those occasions when one manages to actually achieve it.
And I am quite flown with wine, and shall now stagger into bed. Busy day tomorrow, and Sunday, I'm off to Seattle, in search of new adventures *g*.
He talked for a while about F., the woman he's been living with for a number of years now, and in between tales of how her father is lapsing into Alzheimer's and her son is back in drug rehab after blowing his parole, he said that he and F. are going to get married in July. I found myself immensely happy for him--for both of them--and terribly touched by this act of ... I don't know what to call it--faith? ordinary humanity? When S. and I were together, there was never any thought of marriage between us, we were young and reckless and all defying-of-convention. But we're older now, and I feel a deep gladness that he's found something he feels willing to anchor to, or rest upon. And he, in turn, seemed very happy to hear about my prospects of total life upheaval, and promised to come visit me, if I do get the job.
There are times when I think I've screwed up most of the things life has put in my path, but one thing I remain proud of, one thing I've managed to accomplish with some degree of grace, is this movement from being partners and lovers to being good friends. We don't see each other often, but there's a lovely mellowness between us, when we do meet, a kind of ease and comfort that I have with no one else. And I keep thinking that's no small accomplishment.
I don't regret that we broke up, all those years ago; it freed us each to take new directions in life, and those new directions have, on the whole, gone well. No regrets. But I'm terribly happy that we've been able to stay good friends, and to know that we'll always matter to each other. I find myself thinking Adulthood is a wonderful, wonderful thing, on those occasions when one manages to actually achieve it.
And I am quite flown with wine, and shall now stagger into bed. Busy day tomorrow, and Sunday, I'm off to Seattle, in search of new adventures *g*.