Such has been my excitement with all the new things occurring in my life recently, I have, in my writing here, been dipping a little too much into the sexual elements of my relationship with Audrey. I do apologize. It is so easy to be carried away by such titillations. There is more to life than that covered by a blanket is there not?
Audrey and I seem to be doing what many couples do, recently. We have fallen into certain routines. On a certain night now we go for dinner and take in a film. I go to Audrey’s home to help clean one day and she will come to do the same on another day. We have taken to eating dinner at more or less the same time every evening. And there is more. Toothbrushes in certain arrangements and so on.
I ask myself sometimes if the inadvertent freedom my ex-husband afforded me by leaving has now been compromised by some deep need for the mundane and routine. Despite our not being a conventional man-woman couple I wonder, are we at risk of becoming tediously everyday?
To friends I suppose the answer to that question would be a resounding no. A previously stable, safe woman in a conventional marriage coming together with an established spinster would appear to be exotic to them. In the wider world though, Audrey and I are merely a couple who do the things any couple will do day-to-day.
Perhaps I am expecting too much. After all, neither Audrey nor I are the sort to jump from a bridge on the end of one of those elasticated rope things or dance in some street parade in swimsuits. Heaven help the populace if we did. Perhaps we are, despite certain exotic proclivities, middle-class and conventional at the root.
What I am asking myself here if I am honest is do I feel there should be more, or do I really have exactly what it is that will make me happy already?
There are many clichés about the grass being greener on the other side of the hill and all that, I know.
When one takes the great step, or is pushed as was my case, into a new life seething with possibilities, how does one know when happiness has been arrived at?
Am I there now? It does feel that way most of the time. Is there more I may have denied myself by settling into this comfortable, domestic situation? Would paddling a canoe down the Amazon satisfy some deep need or would it just be a delusion of happiness because it’s something I think I should be doing?
I mean when I sit down in my new favourite armchair, comfortable in my birthday suit, to enjoy a nice cup of tea and a good book, in the knowledge that there sits beside me a friend who never demands anything of me other than to be a friend in return, I ask myself, ‘do I really need more?’
Until next we meet,