December 31, 2023

Things have been uncertain in my world the last few months and were shaky before that. My partner of nearly a decade reached a point he wasn’t sure he wanted a future with me. This epiphany came about after we finished the arduous and stressful remodel. We built a beautiful house together with our shared future in mind. The grief I’ve felt over the possibility of losing him and this gorgeous place is such I’ve only been able to live through it rather than articulate it.

I think the grief is also compounded by the reality that I’ve been in his shoes and it wasn’t easy. It was Hell to realize you weren’t living in the middle of your authentic life. It was Hell to admit that to someone you loved deeply. And all of this was made harder by someone who couldn’t hear these feelings and wasn’t willing to try and work through them. The last thing I wanted for Us was hasty decisions without the benefit of time and work. But holding space for him these last few months plunged me into a place where anxiety is always just at the surface ready to swirl me down a dark rabbit hole. It is unspeakably hard for me to just sit on my hands and not DO something about all this, like taking the decision by the neck and running away from him and my beloved home.

But yesterday he hung my favorite painting in the kitchen where it hung before we remodeled. I hesitated hanging it last year because there were bits and pieces of finishing work in the space and the painting is large, heavy, not terribly easy to remove and replace.

I have a number of beloved original canvases but this is my favorite. It’s a large watercolor rendering of a glass vase brimming over with roses and blossoms. The brush work is whimsical and the flowers are casually arranged. It’s unapologetically cheerful.

I helped him with the careful process of placing it just in the right spot, centered on the wall and high enough for a counter high table we’ve been searching for. He meticulously measured and thought it through making sure everything lined up. Me? I would have just eyeballed the placement and ended up with a couple nail holes because that’s how I roll. Such a gorgeous example of how we individually approach life and why he has been endemic to my growth over the last 9.5 years. Placing that picture felt like a huge affirming ritual. So much so, after the small but existentially gigantic task was completed, I had to take a nap, and he distanced himself via a book until dusk.

My lovely vase of flowers is a cheerful beacon of hope. This hope is like the glimmer of light spied through the crack of a heavy near immovable door. requiring firm but gentle shoves to budge it open. And when it opens, you are rewarded with heady and blinding light.