Monday, October 10, 2011

A Changing Definition of "Fun"

My friend Jessie has a name for the period of time when you first start dating someone and everything is just flowers and light and smiles and so on--"The Hearts and Bunnies Phase".

It sounds contrived, but it's true.  

And no one in the world wants to hear the details of how dizzily happy you are, that what you've always dreamed of seems to be happening, that you're walking around floating on air because life feels so very good.

Which is why I haven't been blogging much lately.

The fact that Henry, who is also an English teacher, lent me his Edgar Allan Poe action figure to share with my students after finding out that we were reading "The Cask of Amontillado" melted my heart, but I'm sure it sounds just lame to other people.  

He made a playlist of songs that reminded him of me, burned them onto a CD, and I listen to it all the time.

As Pythagorus became increasingly unbalanced and emotionally abusive the past few weeks (before disappearing entirely for days at a time more than once), Henry has been incredibly supportive, offering not advice or anger but love, logic, and laughter (after Pythagorus left a couple of disjointed, rambling voice mails that concluded with him giving his full name and phone number, Henry opined that Pythagorus is freaking out because he can't control and bully me anymore ... and stated, "You've got his number ... literally").

It's a very new feeling to be around someone unfailingly positive, constantly kind, and ridiculously funny ... but also trustworthy.  I never thought I'd be able to fully believe in anyone again, but being with Henry is making me rethink a lot of things.

Including the parameters of what a really fun time is.    

Last week, Belle and I went with Henry to his friend/co-worker's house.  Joanna is also an English teacher, so it was a gathering of the minds ;-)  Anyway, we brought pizza, soda, and Rock Band ... and that was it.

I enjoyed Joanna and her husband from the start, and we had an absolute ball playing Rock Band with the kids and such (they have two kids, one almost exactly Belle's age and one a few years older).

After the excitement of Rock Band wore off, the little ones moved on to board games, hide and seek, and dressing up in Halloween costumes, and the adults went and sat out on the porch, talking and laughing (drinking root beer and Diet Coke, I might add ... it was noted more than once how odd it seemed to be dissolving in laughter so often without drinking alcohol).

It was pretty late when we left, so Belle and I slept in Henry's guest bedroom (and she slept in until 8:00, which I still cannot believe).  Belle had a birthday party to attend, but Henry made pancakes for her (and an omelet for me ... yum!) before we left.  He also put coffee into a travel mug for me, but I forgot it at his house in my rush to get Belle to her party on time.

Cue the following text exchange.

HENRY: You forgot your coffee, you goofball :-(
ME: Oh, shit, I did :-(  And after hogging the cream, too...lol
HENRY: Don't worry, I won't let it go to waste.
***a number of texts came and went***
HENRY: Hmmm, the coffee tastes off.  I think I need to clean the maker.  You're not missing out after all.
ME: Haha, that's a relief :-)  It's almost ten, and I haven't had coffee...perhaps a first since college.
HENRY: Lol, oh my!

And the past week, it just keeps coming.  Everything is beautiful, and I want to sing and dance and hug the sky and such.

Henry met my brother and his family last night when we all went to the beach house for dinner.  It was wonderful.  The dinner party concluded, in fact, with Henry and Adam fixing the beach house toilet (while this was transpiring, my sister-in-law kept saying how great Henry is and how close he and Belle are ... it made me feel so good).

And so as I'm finding happiness (some might say "sappiness" :-)) and, yes, joy in pretty much everything right now, I'm also aware of the nuanced changes in the definition of "fun" as I understand it.

I feel an amazing connection to Henry, in every possible way.  He's an incredible man, and I still find myself shaking my head in disbelief to know that he really wants to be with me.  Sometimes I doubt that, but those moments are lessening, that fear of him disappearing dissipating as we seem to grow closer and more dizzily drawn to each other than we did when we'd just started dating.

There is fun everywhere ... if you are willing to see it, to appreciate it, to let it come.