Monday, December 13, 2010

Pillow Talk

Yesterday I was listening to a friend as he talked about what he missed the most from not being in an intimate relationship. As he talked about missing the physical contact, it made me think about what I miss.

It is an interesting time for me to think about this, as I have only recently reached a place where I am comfortable, even happy, being alone. While I had been feeling desperate to be part of something, that desperate feeling is gone, replaced with a peace and comfort in my own company, on my own as a whole someone rather than as a half of something.

In fact, yesterday I prepared a big dinner party completely on my own. While cooking extravaganzas are nothing new for me, doing absolutely every step, from planning to prepping to decorating to cooking to last-minute fixing to cleaning up was all mine to do. Thankfully my wonderful friends at the party stepped in and lent some helping hands, because while I do love every single step of entertaining, it was a big task.

And what I realized was that what I miss is the pillow-talk, sharing the after-party clean-up and recollecting, the banter after all the guests have left, the partner to collapse with and whose hair also holds aromas of the dinner we've shared with guests, the you-wash-I'll-dry person to linger with and extend the joy of welcoming people just a little longer into an intimate conversation.


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  2. You know, Lis, it's a funny thing. I don't think I thrived as "half of something", even though the pillow talk of which you speak is dearly important to me, and was so much a part of my last relationship.

    My relationship today feels so different. I'm wholly me, he's wholly him, so I guess you could say we're a Venn Diagram instead of two halves.

    Our overlap happens somewhere shy of the lingering, slightly dreamy post-mortem of the party. I miss it quite a lot, but not nearly enough to make me forget the awesome crossovery part of the diagram.