thelesbianlifestyle.com

My wife and I have been together for five years, and often it seems that we have become almost telepathic with one another. Sometimes that can be really funny, and sometimes scary. I am a very private person, and for me, the way that she can “read” me is uncanny. I have to admit, there are times when I don’t like it very much. Like, when it forces me to talk about things that I would rather just leave quiet. And yet, when I DO end up talking to her about it, whatever “IT” is, I always feel better. I feel accepted, heard, understood. Even if she doesn’t agree with me, she always, always acknowledges that my point of view and my feelings are valid and important. I cannot tell you how wonderful that is.

Despite this, we are completely and totally our own selves. While we do quite a few things together, we each have our own hobbies and fascinations that don’t do much for the other. I am a total movie buff and sci/fi reader and fan. She was basically raised in a car by a schizophrenic mother until she was about 14, then lived in a strict Jehovah’s Witness foster home, so she really has no background in popular culture. “Live long and prosper” and “Beam me up, Scotty.” mean nothing to her. It’s an interesting experience living with someone who is basically my age (we’re 3 years apart), but has none of the cultural “reference points” that you do. As I tend to speak in movie quotes, which with most people, is kind of a verbal “shorthand”. She has taught me how to be more concise with my language and to use my own words, rather than borrowing someone else’s.

She’s an avid fisherwoman and ties her own flies. I don’t mind casting a line in now and then, but I’d rather sit under a tree and read a book or take a nap. She gets all hot and bothered when we pass a lumber yard and she sees the cull pile of free wood for woodworking projects. I am riveted by “Iron Chef America”, and read cookbooks like novels.

When we got together, I told her that I planned to walk the Camino Santiago in Spain the year I turned 50 (2007). And I was going alone, because it was a pilgrimage, and it was something I needed to do by myself. I know she would love to go with me, but I still need to do this by myself, and she understands. I leave in August.

It still amazes me that, despite our completely different backgrounds and upbringings that we have managed to come together as kindred souls who have so many things in common as far as our values and our basic outlook on life and the future are concerned. But in the entire time we have been together, I have never felt like she ever, EVER wanted me to be anyone or anything other than who I am. And I want the same for her. I fell in love with her as a whole and complete person, and I am pretty sure she did the same with me.

And while we have “merged” our lives and our households, our “selves” remain separate and distinct, and we embrace that. I am the luckiest woman in the world to have her. And so is she.

Happy Easter,

Grumpy Granny