Last night my friend Stacy and I went out for drinks and a bite. I met up with her and two of her friends, a slightly older lesbian couple. We went to South of Beale, a local bar just down the street from my office. It was a really nice evening, and her friends were lovely. They sat close to each other, held hands from time to time, spoke softly and lovingly. There was a peacefulness to the two of them, a calm in how they were with each other. They’ll have been together a year today (or at least their first date was a year ago). I don’t remember the details of their date, but they spoke of it fondly and laughed at the memory. They talked of it the way people in love talk of such things. I liked being in their presence. It was calming.
I talk a lot about that type of bliss. It was something that I absolutely felt with my ex-fiancee, B, on our best days. My poem “An Uncomplicated Warmth” was my attempt to capture that feeling. I felt that comfort in most of the things we did. Sitting on the sofa watching TV, having coffee in the morning, going out to dinner, sitting on the stoop or the deck with a glass of wine, walking around a new city figuring out where to have lunch. It was something I envisioned for many many years to come. I can remember how B and I would talk about our first date as though it had just happened – so many details crisp in our minds.
Nearly everyone I spoke to that knows things didn’t work out, said some version of the same thing – that we had a presence about us, a happiness. It’s there in every picture, every smile. B’s dad described it as an energy, my friends just said we were amazing to be around and they had hoped we were going to do more of it when she had moved in. My mom was probably hit the hardest by the loss (aside from B, my daughter Carolyn, and Me). She felt like she had a new daughter with whom she could really connect. She loved seeing us together (probably because she just loved to see her son so happy). Carolyn, who was living with us, really loved having her around too. She picked up on our energy. She gave B a book when she moved in and said welcome home. She thought of her as a new mom, one who was warm and present. I think the two of them would have been really great together. Unfortunately, Carolyn was also there the night it ended. She saw us at our worst.
I suppose when two people exude so much positive energy, it could be draining for one or both people. B often talked about needing time and space to recharge. I wish we could have figured that out – it sounds really appealing to me. Last night, the two women talked about what a lazy day they had. They got out of bed late, or spent time on the sofa. It’s a special feeling when you know you can enjoy being lazy with someone. It creates a different kind of energy. It makes life feel warm and quite and comfortable – like a cozy blanket and nothing to do.