**I recently returned from spending ten fantastic days with Ann St Vincent. These posts about the visit aren’t going to be in any specific order, there is too much to write on too many topics. So, don’t look at these like one long story, they are more like post cards or snap shots from a fantastic trip. This particular post was written my flight home.**
(I wrote this post on the plane ride home after the visit with Ann.)
American Airlines has this weird boarding music, a solo piano player doing top 40 hits with no vocals. It’s an interesting, slightly disconcerting sound track. You sit down, hardly noticing the quiet, slow paino tunes until it tickles an ear worm… then you spend the next three minutes trying to figure out what song it is.
(Not my video, but glad someone else thought it was strange enough to be note worthy)
In theory, the music should be pretty neutral, pop that has been toned down a bit by the solo piano. However, on this flight, for some reason every tune seems distinctly melancholy.
But maybe that’s just me. Leaving is always a melancholy affair.
Once again, I’m on a plane flying away from my love. Considering the awful experiences I’ve had with the airlines, I’m starting to feel like I’m being kicked while I’m already down. It’s not fair, but then life rarely is.
To preface the rest of this post, I want to reinforce to all of you that I am one cynical, sarcastic, grouchy, jaded, curmudgeon. I really am.
I’m an intensely private person, I isolate myself from society most of the time because people drive me nuts. People are stupid, obnoxious, irritating and contribute little to my world, so I avoid them. I view them the same way that most people view animals in the zoo, as fascinating, strange creatures that bewilder, amuse and entertain… in small doses, in a safe environment, and only when the mood strikes. Otherwise, I prefer my own company and suffer social niceties as infrequently as possible.
Have you ever seen those Westerns where there’s that one crazy old man who wanders around the canyons, talks to his donkey, hates people and society, and lives in a shack in the middle of nowhere? A misanthrope, I believe they’re called. Yeah, that’s me in another decade or two if I don’t watch it.
I want to put all of that up front because I want you all to understand how out of character the rest of this post is.
The last ten days with Ann have been absolutely, completely, utterly fantastic. She’s the most amazing woman I’ve ever met and makes me feel like the luckiest guy in the world every time she looks at me.
Just like the first time we were together, there was this immediate level of comfort with her. I cooked her breakfast, we made meals and did dishes together, we slept, we made love. I slipped into her life, her city, her home, like a duck into water with hardly a ripple.
It makes me want to believe in the big L, fate, destiny, and other romantic ideas. I don’t feel like Ann is a new person in my life, I feel like she has always been there. She’s a missing link, not something introduced but somehow rediscovered.
As an intensely private person, who places an extremely high priority on personal space and independence, I’ve written before that I couldn’t imagine living with another person again. Ann makes me rethink that, just like she does with every other qualification I put on my life. She creates exceptions for herself. I can’t imagine living with anyone… except Ann. I can’t imagine being swept off my feet… except by Ann. I’m not totally fixated on and addicted to sex… except with Ann. Somehow she changes everything she touches in me in a unique and wonderful way.
Head over heels, that’s what Ann does to me. She turns my world around, she makes my world turn.
The night before I left we stopped by Ann’s mother’s house. Her mom gave me a hug, smiled, looked me in the eye and asked what’s next. I smiled back and told her that I will be trying to move there. The sooner the better.
Almost as soon as I arrived I was plotting and planning, how can I make the move there? How quickly can I drop everything else in my life to be with Ann?
I leave Ann again with nothing in my mind except the desire to keep our time apart as short as possible. It’s not a goodbye, it’s a temporary hiatus until we can find a more permanent situation.
Flying away from Ann, again, makes me think that life is too short to miss opportunities like this. Every day I spend away from her is not a day lost, but it’s a day that could have been spent with her, and the reasons not to spend them with her seem less and less important as every minute passes.
I’m not getting any younger, none of us are. I’ve recently found a few distrubingly “blond” hairs in my goatee (they’re not gray hairs, they’re blond, leave me my illusions). So, the value of each day is getting a little more obvious. Why am I not waking up next to Ann every morning? Why am I not curling up next to her every night? Because that’s where I want to be, all day, every day, for as long as she’ll have me.
My life in logistics. How soon until I can see her again? How soon can I untangle myself from my current location? How soon can I make the move to be with her? How can I figure out work? How can I figure out my own family life? What things might slow the move? What gears need to be greased? What steps should I be taking, right now, to make this move happen faster, smoother?
Yeah, if all of that doesn’t come across as jaded, cynical, curmudgeon-y, you can see how she turns my world upside down.
There are so many things that we could be focused on that would distract or discourage us, get bogged down in the details and difficulties. It would be easy to get stuck on the complications between Ann and I, we certainly have quite a few and not just the distance. It would be really easy to look at all of it and think it’s not possible, or it’s too difficult, or it’ll never work out, or the realities are against us.
It would be easy to get stuck, but I’ve found that focusing on the simple, undeniable things it helps me clarify my priorities. So, I ask myself what do I want? I want Ann, and that simplifies everything. It all becomes questions of “how” and “how soon”. It won’t be as simple or quick as I wish it would be, but at least I know what I’m working toward and how fantastic she is. She’s worth the work, the complications, and the hurdles.
So, we might not be together right now, but every day I’m taking steps toward being with her and that’s the important thing.
Yes, the trip had to end at some point, unfortunately. As with all things in life, all we get to hold onto are the memories. And the digital evidence. My only two regrets are that the trip had to end and that we never took advantage of the video camera and tripod in her bedroom. But, I guess it’s nice to have something to look forward to doing on my next trip.
I might be flying away right now, but in my mind I’m already working toward coming back more permanently