Reconnecting
Last night was interesting, in a positive way. I'll be up front: I'm perfectly happy with where everything is right now. But I don't feel much like going into the deep, overly-obsessive analysis or even play-by-play that I usually do. It just doesn't feel right to do that, at least not "publicly."
The evening was very relaxing and enjoyable. We spent about 4.5 hours together comfortably, first editing his composition over a beer, then dinner out (he insisted on paying, but that was in part to thank me for what I'd done on his composition even though I said it wasn't necessary), and then sitting around in his sun room just talking and watching the moon and clouds outside over another beer. We still can talk about everything and nothing without judgement, and silences are not awkward.
He's had a rough few months. As I have blogged before, bipolar disorder is much more challenging of a disease than most people think. He did have a mildly manic episode, and he's now dealing with the fallout from that. Although he shared some of his issues with me, they are his demons to battle and his mess to pick up -- and not my dirty laundry to post on the internet. He finds himself lonely at times, and has gone from a period of extreme social activity to almost being a hermit. The pendulum is gradually swinging back to the center, though. He's on the mend.
The only awkwardness of the evening was as we both negotiated the "do we touch" boundary. While he's the one who wears his heart on his sleeve, I'm the one who is the touchy-feely one. That was finally completely broken at the end of the evening when I, of course, gave him a hug. A lot can be said in the simplest of body language between two people who know each other well, and the hug was something we both needed and communicated more than words ever could.
We will see each other again, and soon, in his words. I'm very happy with where things are. I feel absolutely no need to push anything, ask any questions about "us," anything like that. I think he now knows for certain that I harbor no ill feelings towards him whatsoever, and that my friendship is real. If that is why we were brought together, so be it. I have no regrets. I can still make him laugh, he still makes me smile. He's still a great guy, and I'm still lucky to have him in my life -- and right now I'm just happy that "in my life" actually means that, and not as a random text or two every month or so.
The evening was very relaxing and enjoyable. We spent about 4.5 hours together comfortably, first editing his composition over a beer, then dinner out (he insisted on paying, but that was in part to thank me for what I'd done on his composition even though I said it wasn't necessary), and then sitting around in his sun room just talking and watching the moon and clouds outside over another beer. We still can talk about everything and nothing without judgement, and silences are not awkward.
He's had a rough few months. As I have blogged before, bipolar disorder is much more challenging of a disease than most people think. He did have a mildly manic episode, and he's now dealing with the fallout from that. Although he shared some of his issues with me, they are his demons to battle and his mess to pick up -- and not my dirty laundry to post on the internet. He finds himself lonely at times, and has gone from a period of extreme social activity to almost being a hermit. The pendulum is gradually swinging back to the center, though. He's on the mend.
The only awkwardness of the evening was as we both negotiated the "do we touch" boundary. While he's the one who wears his heart on his sleeve, I'm the one who is the touchy-feely one. That was finally completely broken at the end of the evening when I, of course, gave him a hug. A lot can be said in the simplest of body language between two people who know each other well, and the hug was something we both needed and communicated more than words ever could.
We will see each other again, and soon, in his words. I'm very happy with where things are. I feel absolutely no need to push anything, ask any questions about "us," anything like that. I think he now knows for certain that I harbor no ill feelings towards him whatsoever, and that my friendship is real. If that is why we were brought together, so be it. I have no regrets. I can still make him laugh, he still makes me smile. He's still a great guy, and I'm still lucky to have him in my life -- and right now I'm just happy that "in my life" actually means that, and not as a random text or two every month or so.
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