I spent it with my best friend from high-school, Liz, her two little girls, her husband, her sisters, their husbands, her nephew, a friend from her brother-in-law's college days, and her parents at this beautiful, palatial, beachhouse in Galveston. The house was equipped with enough bedrooms, beds, and amenities to hold us all. It was exactly what I needed after basically living like a beggar and a hermit for the last several months. I haven't been out with my regular group of friends in weeks. It sucks being poor. But thankfully I still do have caring friends willing to let me tag along on their family vacations and stay with them at this great place.
I was impressed that Galveston wasn't too filthy this past weekend. I actually enjoyed going out into those chilly Gulf waters and not being afraid to get tangled in seaweed or sink in black, muddy, oozing oil. The weather was perfect, the sun glinted off the surface of the water like a mirror, and the nights on the deck drinking too much red wine, and smoking Marlboroughs was sublime. My very married friends were asking me when I was getting married. When I find the right guy willing to accept every part of me; the good, the bad, the ugly, and the down right frightening. I find myself truly desiring to get married, to throw myself under the yoke once again, and shackle myself to that one person for life.
But then that other part of me rises up and thinks "Why can't I just have a live-in boyfriend? Or better yet, one that lives next door to me? That way he has his house and I have mine and we can just walk in between when we feel the need to be around each other." The aristocrats of the past centuries had the right idea. Build castles with so many different sections that technically the king and queen lived under the same room but each in their own complete wing of the castle. The thing is I sometimes think I should have been born a man. If I were a man I would never be true to one woman and that would be perfectly, socially, and completely acceptable. But I like being a woman, I like having all my womanly parts, curves, and ability to have babies. I just honestly struggle with the whole fidelity and monogamy thing. I have never been faithful to any man I have ever had a relationship with as I told my unfaithful lover last week when we had a huge fight because he came over at his appointed time but left because I was running late and I was furious at him for skipping out.
But I digress. I was talking about my weekend in Galveston with my friends who I love dearly. But deep down, although they have always known me to be the wild one, I don't think they grasp just how far removed I can get from their traditional world views. They are delightfully boring but I sometimes need more.
We all spent most of Saturday in the water and on the sand. I was the only one who dared to go farther out in the waters until I couldn't touch the bottom. I do that every time I go to the beach. I am tempted to sometimes just keep swimming out. I feel the call of the ocean. One of the guys commented later that I was a wild woman going so far out to where all they could see was my head bobbing on the water. I feel free in the water. I always have. I do not feel free in the air. Which is why I hate to fly. I prefer a million times to be in the water. I let all my problems go. I just let the waves crash over my head, I swallowed salty, Gulf water, and just kept floating on my back until I needed to come back in. It would have been nice to have had someone there because seeing everyone of my friends paired off fills me with a longing, a desire to have someone too. I know he will come. Secretly I hold out the hope that a certain someone will come back to me from across the six state lines I indirectly sent him on. Perhaps my problem is that I have never found the right man to be faithful for.
I came home on Sunday very relaxed, sunburned, and quite content. And my lover came to see me on Monday. So life is good. He won't come next week. But the week after that will be good. I can take him in only small doses. Like the drug that he is. I need my fix at least once every two weeks but definitely at least once a month. I would like there to be more but then I ask myself why? He comes over, we talk, he fixes what needs fixing in my house, then he fixes me and then he leaves. It's perfect. Perhaps a little dull sometimes and definitely not within the bounds of a normal relationship. But what is normal anyway? I give myself a headache just thinking about it all sometimes.
Okay. So. Now What? I wonder if I can ever change my nature? I want to continue to be exactly the creature that I am. I am fine with it. But it does get lonely I must admit. HMMM.....Do you think I could advertise for a boyfriend with an open door policy?
I hope to have another weekend like this last one again very soon.
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