I love to tell a good story. I sometimes feel like my life is just a collection of stories. I attract eccentric people, and I love hearing people’s life path. Hence, the attempt at the Portraits here on this blog.
But, when you are entering in to a relationship with someone new, it’s not entirely obvious for me (someone with subpar social skills) to know where to stop. Romeo and I have had sort of a whirlwind couple of weeks. We are still in that in between for new friends where you have so much to say, so much past to learn. Because of my decade of singleness (approximately) and traveling, I have lots and lots of little mementos that come up randomly. Romeo, having been married for 8 of those last 10 years, has fewer stories – or at least fewer characters to his story.
The wise move here is to just scour my background, clean it up and make it like a blank white slate. I am not playing this wisely. In thinking about it with friends, I realized that I must have 100 first dates who represent sort of a game of “around the world”. There’s the Dominican, the Indian, the Gambian, the Uruguayan, the Panamanian, the German, the French (blech), the Jamaican, the Greek, the New Zealander, the Brit, the Mexican(s), the Hawaiian. Poor East Asia suffers from a lack of representation, as does the Arab world. The Americans have their own ticks that aren’t so connected to where they are from, although the Georgia boy is still on my mind sometimes. I actually know quite a bit of geography from this game.
More than that, I know a lot of random things about random professions because I’ve “interviewed” (or been on dates with) them. The librarian, the accountant, the real estate agent, the botanist, the software engineer, the construction project manager, the soccer coach, the actor, the farmer.
I am *really* getting to know Romeo, not sort of. These are the kind of talks that last for hours on the beach after a glass of wine. And I keep getting stuck on the “And then I was here with …” or “I can distinguish between these bird calls because…” or “… Honestly, listening to my own story, the word “floozy” comes to mind – but I’ve just met so many damn people. I try to meet people and hear stories, and now I don’t know how to explain that very well.
After every date with Romeo, I feel young again. I laugh to myself all day long and remember my courage (or naivete?) at traveling the world. I remember the times from not all that long ago where marriage and babies were absolutely not a concern, but living a big and beautiful and colorful life were the most important thing. I remember how I love to meet strangers and hear stories. This is amazing.