I have to give over to this part of my Memoir; it feels unpolished. ‘Unfinished’ in all senses of that word. There’s still more to come here.
What’s important to know about Jason and me, then?
We took care of and supported each other. We believed in each other more than we believed in ourselves. We understood each other’s responses to the world. We had similar worldviews and self-talk.
Jason was a romantic. He dreamt up lovely getaways for us and made all the arrangements. I fell in love with his positivity and optimism — neither of which I believed I possessed. I couldn’t seem to “just be” as the self-help gurus espoused. What the hell did that even mean?
We’d share an Instagram day — a country drive, a delightful cafe lunch, a stroll through a vineyard, a luxurious wine tasting, an invigorating hike in the woods… Meanwhile, an impossible to-do list spun out in my brain—a battle between what I should be doing vs what I most wanted to do. The dissonance often brought on a fight, followed by tears after I gratefully gave over to my guilty enjoyment and gratitude for our experiences together.
But sometimes, I needed to face those stressors head-on.
The house was a shambles, another overseas business trip was upcoming, and my work responsibilities clawed at me. I had a lifetime of meetings to attend over a matter of days, healthy meals to plan that we never had the energy to prepare and a neverending laundry mountain to climb.
As my work life became more demanding, these getaways added to the pressure and resentment. Jason believed I needed these breaks. I thought I was shoving aside my needs, giving over to his elaborate ideas. He endured my jagged, anxious energy while I flayed myself for being selfish and ungrateful.
Jason and the dogs pounced on me as I dragged myself and my suitcase through the front door after a business trip. Jason’s energy was all bunched up, waiting for a fun outing. My attempts to say “No” were met with a long face, his eyes averted.
After all, I’d been at a five-star hotel, drinking good wine and eating fabulous meals… I also hadn’t slept well for days; I’d worked long hours to keep clients happy and stayed in touch with the office and home, often from a different timezone.
Why couldn’t I be grateful for a partner so happy to see me and excited to do fun things together?
I knew Jason felt pinned down while I was away. He was left to care for the dogs and deal with his parents and their business. No matter how much I wanted to curl up on the couch in my pyjamas, I rarely disappointed him. I’d set aside my body’s aching need for rest and push through jet lag until I began to nod off in my beer and chicken wings.
Jason personified the optimism I didn’t feel I could embrace. I was the perpetual wet blanket too often in practical, realistic, and sensible mode. Yet I craved the spontaneity and creativity he exhibited. I’d set those instincts aside years ago in favour of certainty and a new standard of living.
Over time, I learned that Jason’s enthusiasm for ‘getaways’ was more acute than simple boredom while I travelled. His need to run away came from the realities of his life, upbringing, and family. He kept it at a distance from us until there was no longer an escape.
Lovely piece, I am watching your memoir and life unfold.
Beautiful piece! And curious about what comes next!