Labor Day Weekend
I’ve never been one to celebrate Labor Day weekend. Ironically, there’s always been too much labor to be done. Criminals don’t take vacations. But they were miraculously quiet this year, and for perhaps the first time - no, certainly the first time - in my life, I was able to take a brief Labor Day vacation. Specifically, to Tony’s house and they will always be Tony's houses, no matter how long we're together. I can't fathom that wealth for myself on Long Island, with Lorna Dane and Henry Hellrung and several other guests, both acquaintances and friendly strangers alike.
I’m not much of a beach person, to be honest. I don’t like open water. And it turns out that Irish ancestry partially cancels out the benefits of the Super-Soldier Serum, because I even got a little sunburned. But mostly the weekend was lovely. We played badminton and volleyball as well as several indoor games, and Lorna took us to a nice concert by a man named Rufus. I’m not sure his music is to my taste, but I could appreciate his talent. And Henry and I took in a great, eclectic art fair in East Hampton and got to know each other a bit better, and any weekend that I make a new friend is a good one. Sadly, I didn’t get a chance to build a sand castle, but I guess that’s a little frivolous, anyway. I used to build them for Sally, when she was little.
All in all, I’m glad I took the chance to rest, with friends. Those kinds of days are few and far between, and they can’t be taken for granted.
*private*
I still fear that Henry doesn’t like me very much. I’m not even sure I was very good company, considering how many other things - the situation with Sharon in particular, and memories of beach trips with Sally - were absorbing my mind. Still, I did have a fun time with him, and I hope we can be friends. We were both putting in plenty of effort, at least, which I certainly appreciate, and which I hope he does in turn. And he and Tony didn't even flirt - at least not any more than Tony flirts with anything that moves. This is in strikethrough because even in my most private thoughts, I can't admit I was afraid of them interacting.
It was strange, being with Tony this weekend. I felt like I was an actor in an improvisational game. When only Henry and Lorna were around, we could just be ourselves. It’s the first time we’ve spent an extended amount of time around people who know about us, and it was thrilling to finally have that freedom. But it made the moments when others were there - Simon and his various friends - all the more jarring. We’d switch gears so abruptly, couple-friends-couple, that it was like emotional whiplash. It put my teeth on edge, and called to mind Sharon and every other less-than-pleasant thing that was on my mind.
And yet, despite all that - despite how frustrating and callous and thoughtless Tony can be sometimes - I’m so happy with him. I can’t even explain it, but I’m not going to question it. I’ve never even had a live-in lover before - in this world, at least - and the fact that I’m still this happy when I’ve been spending so much time with him definitely says something.
There was a song that this Rufus fellow played. Henry said it was from a film - a film, he claimed, that I probably wouldn’t like, though if it’s a musical I’d certainly be willing to give it a chance. It was based on part of Plato’s Symposium, the story of ancient beings made up of two men, or two women, or a man and a woman, that the gods split in half and scattered. It’s a story to explain the existence of love - to explain the search for one’s soul mate, the “other half” of that formerly-double soul. I very much appreciated the inclusiveness of the love story, the allowance for pairs of all kinds, first expressed by Plato but filtered through the mind of a modern man. (On a side note, it was good, I think, for me to go to a concert by a man who was so unafraid to advertise his sexuality. There were so many couples in the audience, pairs of men and pairs of women, cuddling up to each other like all couples do, unafraid to be themselves. Even if I couldn’t do that myself right at that moment (it was far too public an arena, and Tony wasn’t enjoying most of the music any more than I was), it was heartening to see such a safe space.)
But to get back to my point - as nice as the story of the song was, I’m not sure I can believe in it. I certainly can’t believe in it literally - it’s obviously a myth, and it references Thor, who is not even a Greek god, and who I know for a fact was not involved in this story. I’m sure he would have mentioned it in all the years we’ve known each other if he had. But I don’t think I can necessarily believe in the concept of “soul mates,” either. I’ve loved so many people in my life, even if things were missing from those relationships, and I could never push them aside in favor of one “true” thing. That’s what I need Sharon to understand - that my relationship with Tony doesn’t negate anything she and I ever had together. That I loved her truly, and deeply, and she will always be important to me, no matter what Tony and I should do. I hope that’s something she’ll realize, when she calms down from her intense - and, when I admit the painful reality, completely reasonable - anger.
But if soul mates do exist - if, millennia ago, my soul was split from the soul of another, and every other relationship I've had has just been a stepping stone in search of that person - I’d like to think, and hope, that, for all the frustration Tony sometimes causes me, I’ve found that other half in him.
I’m not much of a beach person, to be honest. I don’t like open water. And it turns out that Irish ancestry partially cancels out the benefits of the Super-Soldier Serum, because I even got a little sunburned. But mostly the weekend was lovely. We played badminton and volleyball as well as several indoor games, and Lorna took us to a nice concert by a man named Rufus. I’m not sure his music is to my taste, but I could appreciate his talent. And Henry and I took in a great, eclectic art fair in East Hampton and got to know each other a bit better, and any weekend that I make a new friend is a good one. Sadly, I didn’t get a chance to build a sand castle, but I guess that’s a little frivolous, anyway. I used to build them for Sally, when she was little.
All in all, I’m glad I took the chance to rest, with friends. Those kinds of days are few and far between, and they can’t be taken for granted.
*private*
I still fear that Henry doesn’t like me very much. I’m not even sure I was very good company, considering how many other things - the situation with Sharon in particular, and memories of beach trips with Sally - were absorbing my mind. Still, I did have a fun time with him, and I hope we can be friends. We were both putting in plenty of effort, at least, which I certainly appreciate, and which I hope he does in turn. And he and Tony didn't even flirt - at least not any more than Tony flirts with anything that moves. This is in strikethrough because even in my most private thoughts, I can't admit I was afraid of them interacting.
It was strange, being with Tony this weekend. I felt like I was an actor in an improvisational game. When only Henry and Lorna were around, we could just be ourselves. It’s the first time we’ve spent an extended amount of time around people who know about us, and it was thrilling to finally have that freedom. But it made the moments when others were there - Simon and his various friends - all the more jarring. We’d switch gears so abruptly, couple-friends-couple, that it was like emotional whiplash. It put my teeth on edge, and called to mind Sharon and every other less-than-pleasant thing that was on my mind.
And yet, despite all that - despite how frustrating and callous and thoughtless Tony can be sometimes - I’m so happy with him. I can’t even explain it, but I’m not going to question it. I’ve never even had a live-in lover before - in this world, at least - and the fact that I’m still this happy when I’ve been spending so much time with him definitely says something.
There was a song that this Rufus fellow played. Henry said it was from a film - a film, he claimed, that I probably wouldn’t like, though if it’s a musical I’d certainly be willing to give it a chance. It was based on part of Plato’s Symposium, the story of ancient beings made up of two men, or two women, or a man and a woman, that the gods split in half and scattered. It’s a story to explain the existence of love - to explain the search for one’s soul mate, the “other half” of that formerly-double soul. I very much appreciated the inclusiveness of the love story, the allowance for pairs of all kinds, first expressed by Plato but filtered through the mind of a modern man. (On a side note, it was good, I think, for me to go to a concert by a man who was so unafraid to advertise his sexuality. There were so many couples in the audience, pairs of men and pairs of women, cuddling up to each other like all couples do, unafraid to be themselves. Even if I couldn’t do that myself right at that moment (it was far too public an arena, and Tony wasn’t enjoying most of the music any more than I was), it was heartening to see such a safe space.)
But to get back to my point - as nice as the story of the song was, I’m not sure I can believe in it. I certainly can’t believe in it literally - it’s obviously a myth, and it references Thor, who is not even a Greek god, and who I know for a fact was not involved in this story. I’m sure he would have mentioned it in all the years we’ve known each other if he had. But I don’t think I can necessarily believe in the concept of “soul mates,” either. I’ve loved so many people in my life, even if things were missing from those relationships, and I could never push them aside in favor of one “true” thing. That’s what I need Sharon to understand - that my relationship with Tony doesn’t negate anything she and I ever had together. That I loved her truly, and deeply, and she will always be important to me, no matter what Tony and I should do. I hope that’s something she’ll realize, when she calms down from her intense - and, when I admit the painful reality, completely reasonable - anger.
But if soul mates do exist - if, millennia ago, my soul was split from the soul of another, and every other relationship I've had has just been a stepping stone in search of that person - I’d like to think, and hope, that, for all the frustration Tony sometimes causes me, I’ve found that other half in him.