This weekend we went to my cousin’s wedding in a small town about 1.5 hours from where we live.
Mr. J booked the day off work in order to attend the event with me. He doesn’t get many random days to take off in a year, so using one for this was appreciated.
The drive to the wedding was slightly strained. He knew that I was still hurting/angry from the week, added to the fact that having been busy with his children for most of the week, we didn’t talk much. For the last three nights he only came to bed after I was asleep.
So I wanted this weekend to be about US. (Sorry cousin!) I wanted us to get dressed up, to be social, to drink and eat and dance and be surrounded by love.
We’d lost touch last week, in part from our lack of communication, and in part because of how I am feeling overall about our relationship of late.
Ironically, we sat at the ‘unmarried’ table. There were six of us: the couple to our left have been together for six years, but not married. The women across from us (not a couple, but friends who came together), are both not married. One has been with her partner for 16 years, the other, with hers for a whopping 38 years. Never married.
So Mr. J joked (privately to me) that we were the worst at the table. Not only had I been divorced three times (!!!), but he was still married.
Now at this point we had both had a few cocktails and so I believe he meant that as a joke. As in, ‘how scandalous’!!
But having had a cocktail myself, the tone might not have been so playful when I turned to him and said, “trust me, I am well aware of that fact”. (Actually, that’s not true. I said something else but now, writing this, I can’t quite remember what it was exactly. So that will suffice until I remember what I actually said (if I ever do)).
At that point, I got up and went to get myself another drink at the bar.
I cooled off a little, then went back to the table. Our dinner arrived, we chatted amongst our new friends… and the evening went well. I had fun. I hope Mr. J had fun.
We chatted, listened to music, ate dinner. Drank. Watched the newlyweds in their loving glow.
Then later on in the evening, the dancing started, and Mr. J and I actually had our very first dance. He says he is not much of a dancer, and let me tell you – when it comes to slow dancing, he is very good. He does the basic ‘sway’ – no fancy footwork here – but he makes up for it in the way he held me tight. Secure against him.
As if to say ‘you’re mine, and I’m not letting you go’.
So I can forgive the guy if his fast dance moves make him look like he’s auditioning for the Yoko Ono video ‘Bad Dancer‘. (I wish I was kidding. Sadly, I’m not.)
While our communication issue is still ‘there’, this weekend getaway did help our relationship. It did help us to reconnect. I left the issue at home, and tried to concentrate on US. On being present and enjoying the moment with him. On celebrating my cousin and her new husband – along with everyone else in the room.
This weekend also proved that we don’t have to ‘travel’ to get away. I realized that we’ve gone away twice this year so far, and both times have been really good. This time, for the wedding, as well as one overnight in March to visit my mother.
And I realized that maybe this is the key. Mr. J said he doesn’t like to ‘travel’. Maybe the long distance, and his time away from home is what freaks him out. So I am going to talk to him about a compromise. Instead of long road trips, maybe our thing will be short overnight stays; we could easily leave after he finishes work on a Saturday afternoon, drive somewhere for an overnight, and then come back home the next day. To not go further away than where my mom lives, but still somewhere out of the area. We drive there, check into a hotel, have dinner, then we relax, have some really hot hotel room sex. Then the next morning we check out, explore the area, and then leave to arrive home just after suppertime, giving us enough time to take care of a few things before work the next day. Nothing stressful, nothing rushed.
Just some time away to relax and recharge.
Tomorrow night (his summer hockey begins tonight), I will bring this up with him to see what he thinks. We could do a weekend in July or August to test the waters, and see how he feels about it. We can go forward to get him his passport which would open up a lot more options for us, travel-wise.
But, one step at a time. I’d like to bask in the glow from this weekend and appreciate what we had.
Just a little while longer.