So it's time to start the process of moving. Again. Last year this time I moved with my partner back to my hometown region, and felt so elated by the shift that I bothered to put up a website which extolled all the changes and things that are going to happen in the new place. Which is fine, except that here it is a year later, and most of the changes haven't been able to be accomplished, and I'm starting to hear and feel the same resolutions cropping up.
Why? Why bother to work through issues and get all worked up when nothing ever changes? I mean, new location, cheaper rent, closer commute, but when is it going to be his turn to change? 2 years of living together and it's still the same old shit. As I said to a friend of mine recently, we skipped the honeymoon phase and went straight from courtship to divorce proceedings.
It's not all that bad, though. Recently moving to an open relationship has really spiced up our love life... with each other, not with other parties. It's amazing how what is free is undervalued, but when there's even the possibility of loss or sharing it becomes prized once more. I like the change though. I feel like I'm on equal footing for the first time in the relationship in a while. Which is odd, because I'm the breadwinner, and I'm the planner, and I'm the one who's working to support and improve. So logically I'd be the dom, right? Nunh unh. Call it low self-esteem or the unwillingness to be the bad guy, or the asshole, but I've put up with a ton of shit in this relationship and it's just recently turned into a give and take again.
I swear, I will never commit to a relationship with a Libra again. It's all about them, with them in the center, and don't they realize it's supposed to be about Leo me? *grin*
So, this week coming up, it's going to be about life in Bridgeport, Connecticut. Another depressed economic zone bordering on the California of the East Coast... Southwest Fairfield County's finest rich white Americans. Though it seems Martha's going to be in jail soon, so there goes the neighborhood. The apartment is nice, with hardwood floors and all new appliances, and finally a gas stove. But it's hard not to wonder how long wedded bliss will last between two headstrong self-centered queens in a confined space. Unfortunately, our lives have blended, so have our friends and our things, which means that extrication even under friendly terms would be horrible. Not that I want that, but it would be a painful separation if it ever came to that.
Ah, shit. I love him anyway. I'm pathetic for it, and all my friends seem to think he's a deadbeat leeching off of me, but I see the potential and I see the chance for him, and I see as well what he is now, and I love him. I love coming home to him in the evening and discussing work. He's a bitch, but that's part of his charm. Merciless to the weak, cruel to the breeders, he's got rapier sharp wit and tons of charm. How can you not love him? So, on to the "bold new beginning", part 2 in as many years. At least we're close to the drinking and entertainment districts of Black Rock.