Rememberies

One of my resolutions for the new year was to embark on a "Picture-a-day" project. I had come across several suggestions on how to approach this: Some people took a picture of whatever interested them that day. Others took only self portraits. One person who (wo-)mans a blog I read (a beautiful and artistic soul) is starting a project with a friend where they are taking a picture of every morning for the next year. While that is admirable, I think mine would be a lot of last minute toothbrushing pictures before I fly out the door. (Hmm... that might actually be interesting... anyway..) Some people are rigging their computer cameras to take their photo everytime they log in. I think I might get tired of over-exposed pictures of my face after awhile, though. So I decided to go the least specific of all these routes. As long as I take one picture a day, I'm happy.

This is actually from day two (I'm counting my "Dusty Buddha" as 01.01.06), but as I was looking around my home, this caught my eye. It's been sitting up on my dresser for the past year or so, as it has sat up on a number of dressers in my various domiciles for a number of years. Back before all my digital endeavors, here is a roll of film I actually developed.(Don't ask how many are still sitting in boxes in the garage that will never see the light of day.) I can't remember how old we were here, maybe high school seniors - so that would put us at about 17. That is the same bedroom set I had used since my tenth birthday and it was the same set my mother used as a little girl. The walls (and ceiling) were my pride and joy - an on-going project of found words and images. There is a giant chalkboard that my dad brought home from a job site at some point. Later, he brought home a giant box of chalk of nearly every color imaginable. Besides love notes from my friends, it also held a list of every song on the radio I heard and liked enough to want to buy the cassette tape. Ciara's Superman antics? I have no idea where that came from.

We met in the summer before our junior year of high school. I had hired on as a clerk in the local pet store. My job? Cleaning the fish tanks in the hottest part of the store during a sizzling Santee summer. She waltzed in a couple weeks later, batted those eyes, flipped that hair, and manned the front register from day one. I thought she was cool, but resented the fact that the new low man on the totem pole actually sat a lot higher than myself. On her behalf, she said I was pretty, but too sarcastic for her taste. So, we basically didn't like each other. A couple weeks later, we found ourselves in the same AP English class and the rest is history, (err, English?). Although cliche, opposites do attract, as they certainly did in our case. Somehow, we found in each other the missing pieces of ourselves and that has become the glue that binds us together.

Fast forward 12 years... We live 100+ miles apart and in completely different worlds from that hodge-podge bedroom in Santee. But somehow, on New Year's Eve, we found ourselves ensconced in her new home, drinking Champagne and reminiscing about that old chalkboard

Revelations

I came... I saw... I conquered Boston. It was, as I had envisioned, a spectacular time. I got in late last night and was only able to proof a few photos, but the one above is one of my favorites from the aquarium that I went to on the last day. Believe you me, there will be a photo extravaganza when I get through the rest of them. It will be as much fun as sitting through a presentation of someone's vacation slides can possibly be. (No, you can't leave yet! There's more!!)
So, I wanted to let all y'all know I was back and I had a great time. I highly recommend taking a few days off every now and then and go explore unfamiliar cities, armed only with Frommer's maps and a good pair of sneakers. And a camera, of course. But in spite of all my good tidings and cheer brought back from the East Coast, I have come back unsettled.
A couple nights ago Mike and I sat at John Brewer's Tavern ("Brewah's" to all you Boston locals out there. Oh! Did I forget to mention that Mike was in Boston for work and that was why I had the opportunity to go out there at all?) and had a late night dinner of sandwiches and beer. Our usual conversation and banter turned serious and we started talking about 'us'. I made a joke about 'sowing wild oats' and instead of coming back with a witty retort, he said that from time to time, he regretted missing out on the chance to do that between his divorce and starting his relationship with me.
What?
This new train of thought brought up a whole host of issues. That things have been different lately.. more separate. That despite all of our similarities, we may have some fundamental issues that we may not be able to overcome. I know I've reflected on thoughts of my own place, my independence, and returning to a time when I was happiest with myself and my place in the world. But I had no idea he was so... unsure about things. We've talked about buying a house together and where we would like to move. We've talked about futures. We've bought two cars and a dog together. We've shared a home for nearly two years. And all of the sudden, he's telling me he's unsure? I asked him how long he would expect me to wait for time to assuage his fears. Five years? Ten? He said it wouldn't be fair to either of us to post-pone our lives for that long.
I thought it might be the beer talking that night, so I didn't bring it up again until this morning, when on our way to work, he asked me what I was thinking. I told him I had been reflecting on our conversation the other night and felt like the rug had kind of been pulled out from under me.
"You've never had any doubts about us - about this?" he asks.
And of course I have, but I had never been faced with the reality of it all. Nor did I know he was feeling similarly. "It's not that I haven't, it's just that I didn't know YOU were feeling that way."
I told him that I no longer felt comfortable or safe in 'us.' That with this conversation, we had lost something that defined that haven of our relationship. That I can't talk about the future or entertain thoughts of house-buying, or pretend we're still a family without thinking of this rift we've created.
It's not like we've talked about breaking up or me moving out or making any drastic decisions as of yet. But I also can't make-believe everything is A-okay. I'm not the type of person who longs to be in a long-term relationship without some type of "future." It's not for everyone, but I've found that I want the kids and the commitment and the weathered house and everything that goes along with that. I've wanted it for a long time and it's taken this to realize I refuse to compromise that part of myself. I love this person and I have a deep affection for him - something I haven't felt in a long, long time. But I can't keep my life in a holding pattern because, after nearly three years, he's unsure of his future with me.
So what do I do? Do I start looking for apartments? Do I wait for him? Do I make that long-awaited break for it and move to P-Town?
Something is breaking...

This really irks me...

"Just because you can conceive a child outside a one-woman, one-man marriage doesn't mean it's a good idea," Earll said. "Love can't replace a mother and a father."

- Carrie Gordon Earll, a policy analyst for the conservative Christian ministry Focus on the Family

My response to her opinion:

Why not???

Why isn't love and committment to raising a healthy, happy, confident child the most important thing? Why is it so important to make sure that a man AND a woman make up the traditional set of parents? Heck, whole societies have been based on children being raised by women, while the men's role is only to provide the means to do it. I applaud today's standards that have begun to break down this "mother is the best nurturer" stereotype, saying that it is okay to be a house-husband, while your wife goes out and makes the dough. But what makes a good parent? What is the foundation to basic parenting skills? The fact that you can provide for a child's emotional and physical needs? The fact that you are ready to be a parent and have have the desire to start a family? Or the fact that you are of the right gender?

I think Joe Solmonese, President of the Human Rights Campaign, got it right:

"Mary and Heather's decision to have a child is an example that families in America come in all different shapes and sizes," he said. "The bottom line is that a family is made up of love and commitment."

Take off the labels that society uses to define us and see all of us for what we are: PEOPLE. HUMAN BEINGS. We are all capable of incredible and amazing things, no matter who we love.