And then, finally...we talked

The upbeat nature of my recent posts must be very disorienting for long-time readers. And recent converts are likely getting a totally wrong idea about the usual tone of this blog. Yet, I'm going to run the gauntlet again, and convey positive things in my life! Don't get used to it. I'm always looking for half-empty glasses to write about.

This tale starts with some tail. Ha! Recent history in these parts tells me that graphic sexual detail is not universally welcomed 'round here, so suffice it to say that it was VERY GOOD. For both of us. A great thing about good sex is the emotional vulnerability that follows. The shields were lowered. It started with very happy tears on her part. She talked about how the emotional connection of making love seems like a divine plan to her. This from a proud atheist. She wondered how she could think this. I told her that religion is just a leap of faith, a confident assertion that something bigger must be responsible for all these amazing things we take for granted. Yes, a humanist explaining religion to an atheist. Talk about the blind leading the blind.

And the tears just kept on rolling. Many were joyous, some were not, but she shared more of herself than she has in a long time. Some of it was relief, as we're just about ready to cut ties with the school system, and home school my autistic daughter. Finishing that fight was a great burden lifted, especially for her.

She told me some of what she has been talking about with her counselor. Many issues have come to a head in her stressed state. I told her that it was a good thing that the Leslie issue pushed her over the edge and got her to go for headshrinking. She conceded that a bad thing could also be a good thing.

In May, I think, she took the girls on a Girl Scout camping trip to a state park. My younger daughter came home with three pairs of clip earrings that she purchased at the gift shop. Last night:

She: Can I tell you a secret?

Me: Please.

She: I really wanted to buy you some earrings while I was there. I was very conflicted about whether I should or not. And I couldn't figure a way to buy them without the girls taking notice.

Me: Can I tell you a secret? I was very disappointed that I didn't get any earrings that weekend. (long pause) You know, I'd much rather receive a $15 pair of earrings than most things I would get for my birthday, or even Father's Day. A gift like that would probably make me cry.

She really wants me to have some jewelry. But she has hesitated to follow through. Her worry is that she will give me earrings, and the next day, or the next week, I will announce that I'm leaving now to go be a woman. That some little gesture of acceptance on her part will at last free me to pursue my dreams. I told her the truth, that these little kindnesses make me very happy to stay, more likely to stay. Her small concessions to my inner nature only make me love her more.

She cried happily about what good friends she has now, how they have so much in common. I pointed out to her that she met the whole lot of them through her support group. Of course they have a lot in common! And, I said, I have gotten terrific friends from my support group. She remains fearful of their influence on me. I told her that the people I'm closest to, my best friends, are kind, concerned, warm, sane people that she would probably like if she took the time to meet them. I haven't changed the type of people that I like to spend time with, they just dress a little differently than earlier friends.

Anyway, there was much more. We talked for over two hours. Out of...let's see...117 entries in this blog, fully a third have probably said something about my desire to have this exact conversation. I'm a much happier person today. We really connected and communicated, without editing or anger.

But don't get used to the sunshine on display here. Ever the diligent pessimist, I know that darkness awaits around some nearby corner. And I'll be waiting to write about it here.