don’t call it a comeback
May 3, 2010, 3:01 am
Filed under: when I grow up

Today he suggests living in the small, isolated town where the beach house is two weeks after I arrive. I break out in commitment-phobe hives on contact and it takes two hours and lunch with B. to calm down.

In context: I love the beach house, but when it’s off season it exists in a virtual ghost town. There’s a small convenience store and a restaurant/bar. It would be a fantastic retreat to finish a project, or to take a honeymoon, but as a possible location with no purpose… it starts to look at lot like The Shining with some world class breaks.

Okay, overdramatic. In a lot of other contexts, an isolated house a seven minute walk from uncrowded waves seems ideal.

I want to spend a couple of months surrounded by friends, and maybe some strangers, after hitting reset on this baby. After two years in relative isolation, I need community. Decompression. Inspiration. Transition. I need to have options available to work or volunteer if the urge strikes and I need to see people I know on the beach and in town.

(And, is my unyielding monogamy not enough for you, man!?!)

The funny thing is, he can sense the claustrophobia. This is why we get along so well, emotional hyper communication. He told me he’s not trying to pin me down and I’m free to do anything. It’s not his response that’s concerning.


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