Mike called me this morning and said that he had an opportunity to go make some money in Afghanistan, and what did I think we should do?
Last month, we were laying together in bed. He was propped on his elbow, looking down at me and playing with my hair. He said something, I can't remember just what, but something about me being different.
I puffed at the hair that he'd trailed across my lips. "I'm sure you know lot's of women like me."
He raised his eyebrows at me. "Nope."
"Well," I temporized, "except for the poly thing, I'm sure that you know other women who are like me."
"Uh-uh."
"Well," I started to smile, getting into it, "except for the poly thing and the manic-dissociative thing, I'm sure there's lot's of women out there who are like me."
His eyes began to light and lift at the corners. "No."
"Well," I took a deep breath, "except for the poly thing, and the manic-dissociative thing, and the thinking that the world is gonna crash and choosing to escape to Canada thing -- I'm sure that you know some other women who're like me."
He grinned down at me and then kissed my nose. "Not even one."
So, he called this morning and we talked about the pros and cons of him going away. It would be a fairly safe job; an E-6 slot in parts requisitions. It would mean an additional $20,000 over what we're making now, and a big increase in retirement benefits. I told him that I'd support whatever his choice was. He's the one who'd have to do the time.
He called me tonight and said that he's decided against it. "I haven't lived with you in a long time," he said. "I want to live with you."
I was completely taken by surprise, and blurted, "Are you sure?"
"Yeah." He laughed at me. "I'm sure."
(no subject)
Date: 2009-04-30 01:08 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-04-30 01:57 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-04-30 03:49 am (UTC)(But how do YOU feel about it?)
(no subject)
Date: 2009-04-30 03:57 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-04-30 03:58 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-04-30 04:23 am (UTC)He has decided that my place will do; I've been watching him convince himself and it's a little scary and a whole lot enthralling. Everyone thinks that I bend, but I do not. It's more like playing Tetris. I move things about to fit, but all the things that are necessary are there. I give up nothing.
A month ago, I wrote to him about an epiphany, starting with the sentence "You know all of this, but --" and he said, doubt in his voice, "You give me too much credit." So there are times that I feel sorry for him, when I think perhaps that he *doesn't* know.
Well. He knows the most important things. And if he's surprised by the details, isn't that what life is for?