When my spouse or I go out of town, the other of us is usually pretty excited to have a few days off to be a bachelor(ette). Sure, it’s often a good excuse to spend more time with another lover, but even in the absence of that, it’s a great time to get minor priorities that have been piling up taken care of. Or eat food that they don’t like. Or do anything they don’t like but that brings us joy. It’s a feeling of being able to have it all, just not all at the same time, and of rediscovering independence.
Having lovers scattered throughout various cities, my spouse and I find we get temporary alone time a fair bit, and that brings a bit of an extra spark into the still normal everyday interactions we have with each other. But there’s a transition between bachelor(ette) times and fully reconnecting. The longer one of us has been away, the longer the transition takes. From what I hear, we’re not the only ones who have noticed this.
My spouse and I, even before we were open, would call each other about 10 minutes before we got home to give whoever was still at home a few minutes’ warning to get mentally prepared for the presence of another person. This could involve cleaning up a mess, getting to a stopping point in a project, coming out of deep introversion, or just getting to a point where the door opening wouldn’t be a surprise. For shorthand, we’d say, “I’m coming home--be sure to kick out your girl/boyfriend!” This became funny when there was a lover over, and there was no need to kick them out just because a spouse was coming home. Some couples I’ve talked to give similar warning, and some don’t need it. Some even find that annoying; picking up the phone gets them out of flow in a way that a spouse coming home doesn’t.
As for my spouse and me, after we’d get home, we’d still want about 10 minutes after the initial hug to take off shoes, put stuff away, and sort through mail before any interesting discussion started. I’ve never talked to a single couple for whom that didn’t also somehow become part of the protocol, even if it took a while to negotiate.
After a longer trip of a few days to a few weeks, we find ourselves at disequilibrium for a day or so, before I remember to use the bigger teapot in the morning, or that he hasn’t heard about all of my experiences yet and therefore is confused about some of my stories that get out of order. Plus, one of us is usually in need of an immediate nap. So we don’t really reconnect until a day or two later. But then we’re back in flow.
My spouse and I had the relatively unusual experience of living apart for a year. We did see each other frequently, but the vibe of those trips was much more of a temporary visit than living together, so there was no point in wasting time maintaining living spaces or organization when we were together. And we found that we had very different preferences on how to live day to day when we weren’t around to influence each other (I got to keep our original home, and it was disconcerting for my spouse on the day he come back three months after the move to discover that his drawers were empty, and he couldn’t find any of the common tools). I won’t say that made moving back in together easy. But like polyamory, the difficult process of communication, if done well, resulted in a far super situation than simply going with the everyday flow, effortlessly and thoughtlessly, ad nauseam. To really get back into the swing of things after that long of an absence took a couple of months.
The happy news is that the process of getting used to each other again feels familiar. And it always works out in the end. So I’m willing to put up with what other people might see as an uncomfortable situation with a lover--that feeling of getting used to each other again--with the faith that thoughtfully going through the situation will cause it to improve. Usually, after the initial regrouping time, we interact better than ever.
If I’m leaving town to visit another lover, I don’t have the same need for transition. I think it has something to do with the very temporary nature of the visit (after all, this worked on my spouse when we lived in separate cities and visited each other, too), along with the clear boundaries of space ownership. I don’t share property with any of my non-spousal lovers, and though they all tell me to make myself at home, I’m darned well going to put their knives back where they belong when I’m finished with them. Even if I might have designed a different home for them myself.
*****
Questions or comments? I’ve got opinions. Try me at polysaturated@rocketmail.com.
Having lovers scattered throughout various cities, my spouse and I find we get temporary alone time a fair bit, and that brings a bit of an extra spark into the still normal everyday interactions we have with each other. But there’s a transition between bachelor(ette) times and fully reconnecting. The longer one of us has been away, the longer the transition takes. From what I hear, we’re not the only ones who have noticed this.
My spouse and I, even before we were open, would call each other about 10 minutes before we got home to give whoever was still at home a few minutes’ warning to get mentally prepared for the presence of another person. This could involve cleaning up a mess, getting to a stopping point in a project, coming out of deep introversion, or just getting to a point where the door opening wouldn’t be a surprise. For shorthand, we’d say, “I’m coming home--be sure to kick out your girl/boyfriend!” This became funny when there was a lover over, and there was no need to kick them out just because a spouse was coming home. Some couples I’ve talked to give similar warning, and some don’t need it. Some even find that annoying; picking up the phone gets them out of flow in a way that a spouse coming home doesn’t.
As for my spouse and me, after we’d get home, we’d still want about 10 minutes after the initial hug to take off shoes, put stuff away, and sort through mail before any interesting discussion started. I’ve never talked to a single couple for whom that didn’t also somehow become part of the protocol, even if it took a while to negotiate.
After a longer trip of a few days to a few weeks, we find ourselves at disequilibrium for a day or so, before I remember to use the bigger teapot in the morning, or that he hasn’t heard about all of my experiences yet and therefore is confused about some of my stories that get out of order. Plus, one of us is usually in need of an immediate nap. So we don’t really reconnect until a day or two later. But then we’re back in flow.
My spouse and I had the relatively unusual experience of living apart for a year. We did see each other frequently, but the vibe of those trips was much more of a temporary visit than living together, so there was no point in wasting time maintaining living spaces or organization when we were together. And we found that we had very different preferences on how to live day to day when we weren’t around to influence each other (I got to keep our original home, and it was disconcerting for my spouse on the day he come back three months after the move to discover that his drawers were empty, and he couldn’t find any of the common tools). I won’t say that made moving back in together easy. But like polyamory, the difficult process of communication, if done well, resulted in a far super situation than simply going with the everyday flow, effortlessly and thoughtlessly, ad nauseam. To really get back into the swing of things after that long of an absence took a couple of months.
The happy news is that the process of getting used to each other again feels familiar. And it always works out in the end. So I’m willing to put up with what other people might see as an uncomfortable situation with a lover--that feeling of getting used to each other again--with the faith that thoughtfully going through the situation will cause it to improve. Usually, after the initial regrouping time, we interact better than ever.
If I’m leaving town to visit another lover, I don’t have the same need for transition. I think it has something to do with the very temporary nature of the visit (after all, this worked on my spouse when we lived in separate cities and visited each other, too), along with the clear boundaries of space ownership. I don’t share property with any of my non-spousal lovers, and though they all tell me to make myself at home, I’m darned well going to put their knives back where they belong when I’m finished with them. Even if I might have designed a different home for them myself.
*****
Questions or comments? I’ve got opinions. Try me at polysaturated@rocketmail.com.
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