It’s Friday afternoon leading into a long Independence Day weekend. Today, B__ hit me up for a lunch date, and we ate sidewalk cafe-style in some truly wonderful mid-day weather. While we walked, she asked what was going on this evening and I said that I didn’t know but that I would / should probably work late. She quickly concluded that I must not want to hang out tonight, and lamented that all of her friends seem to be out of town or have other plans.
I have annoyed both K__ and B__ with this Zen-like, nonchalant attitude with which I approach my leisure time. I’m content to work until I don’t feel like working anymore, then I pick up the phone and see if anyone I want to spend time with is free in the immediate future. I’m fully aware that most people “make plans” and that this habit communicates an unintended I-don’t-care.
To what extent should a person bend to the preferences of their loved ones vs “being themselves”? Most suggest that some balance is called for in such situations, but that answer isn’t particularly helpful in finding it. What I find absolutely fascinating is how extreme the acceptable difference of opinion is at the beginning of a relationship, and how narrow it becomes at time goes on.
We had a good time at lunch, I think (at least I did), and managed to make pleasant conversation as long as it didn’t reference any of our hang-ups. She walked with me back toward my office and her car where she gave me a hug and a kiss on the neck. Her disappointment was palpable, and I wondered to myself whether it was specific or general.
I can feel myself all but imperceptibly backing away except for those moments when her magnetic field sweeps me in and spins me dizzy. The net result brings us ever-closer together, but the imbalance is unsustainable. Something has to give.