Sense #1: SIGHT
A lot of my relationships in the last decade or so had barely any face time. Scheduling a face-to-face with the President of the United States or Oprah had to be easier. I needed to justify each outing as how it was not a move to "serious-ville" but merely a speck in status quo-land so he need not worry that our meeting up at Eastern Market meant I was going to have a member of the clergy, 300 of my dearest, and a white dress waiting for him. The truth being that I innocently wanted company while I picked out the next victims of my herb garden-soon-to-be-cemetery. This battle was exhausting yet I justified it as I am not like everyone else and I like to play with the new and shiny things in my life so that may be too much for them. Then, when I was pretty sure that I was taking it slow, I invoked the whole assumption of commitment-phobia that apparently and excusingly afflicts men my age (in my 20s, it was it was too early for them and now in my 30s, they're too set in their ways but all of the books, movies, and advising family members always said the same thing: each man just had to find the RIGHT woman to change his ways... which made me keep looking). Each of these relationships ended with me hearing or feeling (when they just disappeared) that I wanted more than they did. I guess it was true, I wanted to date... they wanted what?
RC is quite different. Our first date started with a late night burger on a Sunday went into early Monday morning and he called me later Monday. We have seen each other at least once every seven days on average three times per week. He comes over evenings despite having to be up before nature just to catch up on our days and fall asleep together, like last night. There have been a few weeks that I have actually sought a reprieve, but then when he calls/ sends me a text message, I always say, "sure, see you in a few..." because it is nice to be seen.
Passion #1: DEBATING
It is a rare art to debate without personally wounding. I was raised in the stereotype: Italian-American men and their Italian and non-Italian wives yelling over everything: mayors, civil rights, noodle types, lawn mowing techniques, football, meatballs, lettuces, weight, and the color of the sky, but never doubting that once the red left the faces and the chandeliers stopped shaking, that there would be laughter that would again turn the faces red and the make the chandeliers move. I don't know how to debate without yelling nor how to hold a grudge once it is over. Once we have exhausted all points, it is time to laugh. I have heard through many a grapevines stemming from all aspects of my life that my aggressive discussing techniques has limited my success. I have wanted to change, I say I am going to change, I count to 10, I listen, I pause, and then sure as anything, my voice raises and my light olive skin gets pink and I beat my point over my
RC does not necessarily debate like me, but he has not ran. He engages. In fact, he antagonizes. He has been known to actually look at me sweetly and smile when I start to boil over. What the hell? I am sure this will go away as the years add up, but all I know is that right now, I bask in not having to curb my passionate discussion style.
Sense #2: TOUCH
The physical aspects of our relationship are intense and gentle. I get to hold his arm while we walk. When we sit next to each other, he puts his hand on my thigh. In bed sometimes, he reaches his leg over to hook mine and then goes back to sleep, like he has to be touching me in order to be peaceful. I melt. And yep, the sex is gggggggggrrrrrrrrrrreeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaattttttttttttt. It has been since the first time we had sex. He knew exactly where and how to touch me. Some of the things surprised me because I did not know I liked that or had not had cause to remember how much I liked that in a while.
Sense #3: HEARING
RC talks to me. We talk about every day tasks like my poor habit of leaving Netflix DVDs in my player for weeks and we talk about dreams like how his is merely to provide for his two daughters. He, also, communicates with me OFTEN. I really don't think there have been two days in which we have not had some sort of contact in the nearly six months we have been dating: phone, text, date, or email. I know that may seem extreem and perhaps nauseating, but I have made an observation about the relationships of others who are as close to successful as possible: THEY SHARE EVERYTHING. I don't mean they don't have separate interests or do everything together, but they talk about their time apart as soon as they are back together and they do it frequently. My sisters talk to their partners several times a day and one pair has been together over 15 years (met when my sister was 18) and the other sister has been with her significant other for over 12 years. It works. I used to tease, goad, and call their womanhood into question and thought they were "whipped." I was going to be damned if I was going to tell my partner about my trip to the grocery store, but then after each failed relationship, all I wanted was someone to whine to about how the cashier just did not understand the basics of bagging: one does NOT put grapes under the frozen steaks. It took me until 2009, but I did finally accept that sharing equals long-term COMMITMENT.
Granted, he says I talk too much and he is required to do an unfair amount of listening, but he tries. I know when he's not listening and what he will not remember. I try to limit my frustration to his not listening, but you know what, every day, he still asks, "How was your day?" And he listens.
Passion #2: POLITICS
I thought the eight-year hell on earth called the Bush Administration had killed my love of all things political; it turns out it was just in an induced coma, waiting for a new day. Now, just like most victims of comas, my political savvy needs to be re-taught how to function: read the happenings of those in DC, Lansing, and Detroit and to engage others. I am still taking baby steps. I read political blogs (The Daily Beast provides me some information from both sides of the aisle) and I look up the nonsensical things he sends me.
I believe greed kills and that every human has rights. Being this way means people label me a liberal or as RC would say, "a scumbag liberal." And he is proud to be opposite of me, which I guess makes him fit into the pigeonhole with "conservative" above it. We rarely agree on anything, but he looks stuff up. He never concedes that most of his complaints are hypocritical and based on the cycle of who is in power, but he is aware. I have dated others from both sides of the aisle who just regurgitate myths and stereotypes to me. I despised their claiming a political stance but refusing to engage. I will never agree with RC's politics on the whole, but I will always respect his involvement.
Senses #4 & 5: SMELL & TASTE
Smell and taste are physicologically connected and they are for RC and me as well. RC likes food and I don't have to be shy about food with him. On our first date, I ordered fries with my bar burger. I eat fries with mayo (my European friends can understand; my USA friends, there is more to life than ketchup). I ordered mayo with my fries. The waitress laughed at me. RC relaxed and ordered his favorite dipping sauce for fries: bar-b-que sauce.
Now, RC has limited food likes. He eats so little, but I am a reformed picky eater. Now my good friend, P., says that I still order like Meg Ryan in "When Harry Met Sally," but I used to only eat pizza and burgers. I eat sushi now along with countless others of the world's bounty that I never used to eat. I have come a long way, but I can remember what it was like to be picky. I am not like the reformed smokers of the world, demanding everyone else put out their butts. I say that as long as I get to eat when and what I want with him, then I am fine if he eats the same foods every other day.
Passion #3: EXPLORING LIFE'S OFFERINGS
How many macho, conservative men do you know would not only go to yoga, but do so boastfully? RC does not cast his net as wide as me to see what Detroit and the greater world has to offer, but right now we are planning our first vacation and he wants to go to some all-inclusive resort in the Bahamas; I want to go to Mexico, preferably stay in a hut, but will compromise for a villa/ local hotel near the ruins of the Yucatan. I thought that he would dig his heels in and not even think about Mexico, instead he started sending me emails about what else we could do besides the resort. He has gone to art exhibits, MOCAD, and will be going to a Hamtramck rock-a-billy celebration of Johnny Cash with me this weekend. There is compromise but there is still exploring.
***Due to technical difficulties that I did not know, this was not posted on Wednesday although written for it and actually certain I had clicked, "Publish Post." Oh well, one set back. Must carry on...***
