On Travel And Love
Boyfriend and I have returned from our long-ass, awesomely spectacular, wonderful, excellent road trip.
We had ten glorious days of driving, camping, hiking, swimming, huckleberry picking, and Slightly Awkward Discussions With My Parents.
See, Boyfriend is married. He's been with his wife for several years, and I Really Like her. She seems to Really Like me, too. Boyfriend and I have been dating for over seven months now, and we are getting fairly serious.
This has been a bit tough for my parents to grok, but they seemed to accept him very gladly. After one Fairly Awkward Discussion with my Mom, she even chuckled and said to Boyfriend, "Y'know, I couldn't've imagined myself saying this a week ago, but.... I really want to meet your wife." I almost cried with happy.
As the ten days wore on, I became very accustomed to sharing a bed with Boyfriend, seeing him all the time, sharing meals, spending time frivolously chasing after waterfalls and berries, and forming new memories.
In the midst of this joy, a bit of me wondered and worried about our homecoming.... I would "have to" "pass him back" to his wife.... Would I feel resentment? Jealousy? Would I be sad to "go back" to "sharing" him? (Quotes to note the portions of thoughts that I deem to be rather negative) A small piece of me was fearful that I would not be happy about the return. Most of me, though, and the part that I hope is intelligent and sensible, was entirely certain that all would be well, as there hadn't been any change in the relationship. Perhaps Boyfriend and I grew to know each other better, but the love shared within our little maybe-family (Self, Boyfriend, Boyfriend's Wife, and Her Boyfriend) hadn't changed in any way.... I still love them, they still love each other, and they still love me. Furthermore, i caught myself -numerous- times wishing that she were there, so she could experience the wonderful things that Boyfriend and I were sharing and that I wanted to share with her, too. All the same, that small piece of me was nervous.
When we finally arrived at Boyfriend's house, there was solid, palpable happy. It was quite sudden that the nervous bit of me disappeared; I almost laughed at myself. There was no sense of "giving back" of anyone, no resentment, no jealousy, no sadness.... Just happy welcome. I was really genuinely happy to see Boyfriend's Wife, as I'd expected I would be. I was eager to share stories with her of where we'd been and what we'd done. I was ecstatic to extend my Mother's welcome to her. I was overjoyed to hear the lovey smoochy noises that she and Boyfriend made while I set down my bags of huckleberry booty. I was thrilled to see her face when we mentioned that there would be gifts and treats.
The four of us went to dinner, and when it came time to toast, Boyfriend's Wife said, "This one's easy. Welcome home." I started to feel all bubbly that maybe, just maybe, she meant that for me as well as for Boyfriend, and when she looked at BOTH of us, I felt sincerely included in the welcome, and almost got teary. I felt so much that I was really a part of it, I felt so much like I was actually family.... I really felt Home.
The SF Bay Area doesn't hold a place for me that is Home, but these and other people here are certainly a part of Home to me. I feel that some day, coming back to the Bay Area really will be like coming Home.
Ah! As to how I felt about not sharing a bed with Boyfriend, and about going back to my lonely little apartment, I really forgot to feel anything about it at all. I was too happy that Boyfriend and Biyfriend's wife were sharing time together to even spare a thought about wether or not my bed felt empty. I think the only thought I had about it was the same as every time I get to have my bed all to myself: Ahhhh! SPRAWWWWWL!!!!