Friday, August 20, 2010
Living with me is not easy . . . Marriage is such a strange land.
I go so deep inside my own thoughts and my own world and the world of my characters that I forget he is there. Suddenly, there is this man looking at me. I say, “Huh? Wha?” and he says, “I just asked if you’d like some seared scallops with cream sauce, a side of risotto, and a nice pinot noir?” I answer, “Oh. Um. Huh? Yeah . . . okay, that sounds . . .” and then I trail off, what was I writing? For surely the character’s world is more important than Real Life. Or not. But it doesn’t matter; it is what it is. To his retreating back, which looks slightly slumped inward, I call out, apologetically and excitedly all at once, “Yes! OH! That sounds good! I’d LOOOOOVEE sea scallops and risotto and pinot noir and all that. I Can’t Wait! Thank you! You are Great! Wow!” Overkilling it, but dang, you know?
I’m moody. Although the older I get, the more my moods even out. But I can think dark thoughts. I can be silly for no reason at all. I can be sardonic. I can be negative. I can see things in ways that he says “I never thought of it like that! Hey!” I can tell him, “That person isn’t as they present themselves,” and then later he asks, “How did you know?” I am otherworldly to his practical.
But for all of that, GMR seems to love me. He seems to be proud of me. When he introduces me to people, he seems to do it with pleasure and love. He seems to really want to be around me—a lot. He seems to think I’m cute, and sometimes maybe beautiful, and always he thinks I’m sexy. He seems to think if something ever happened to me he’d be devastated. He seems to think I am Something Special. He seems to think I am even brilliant. Huhn.
Maybe I have something that keeps GMR content—or at least . . . something. Maybe the weirdness of me keeps him off balance in a way that is exciting or fun or jittery mad mad mad! Maybe it’s rarely boring here in this little log house (except when I’m writing and writing and writing and then . . . well . . . then the house is quiet and the lights are dim and everything is hushed, except for the tip tapping of keys – ).
And what about you?
Marriage. Such a strange strange strange land, isn’t it?
Now: an announcement: Head over to GUMBO WRITER- she's having a contest called The Snark Bite Contest and one of the prizes is a copy of TENDER GRACES! Thank you Angie!