Little boxes...

As I gaze upon the multitude of boxes that now surrounds me, it brings to mind all of the various compartments that are part of my life, the roles, the people, the feelings. Last night was my 13th anniversary with PG! We spent a big chunk of time talking about how to maintain a sense of uniqueness, of purpose, of place in a shifting landscape. Some of that is easier at times with compartmentalization. When you can put one relationship into a category, say "Mom", and then anything that falls under that heading can go into that box.

It gets a little more complex when you have partners that have some similar strengths or skills. Amusingly, PG is a HUGE massage slut. I'm not telling things out of school here. It's a running joke now that he should just start advertising at the local massage schools to find dating material. At any rate, he's got a history of dating other massage therapists. Being one myself, there are times when that can feel a little off-putting, like they might be "better" than I am at something. What I've gotten to realize is that it's still a unique gift of my time, skills and energy to give bodywork to him, just as it is when either he or S help me out with technical issues.

The other question rolling around is if there are some "boxes" that don't suit what I need. Why am I keeping around that box that has been sitting in the emotional garage for the past 11 years unopened? Is it really necessary to process every little thing you've ever had an issue with, or can you look at the description on the label: Insecurities-Adolescence, and toss that box of issues out?

S is out getting a new bed for the new space today. He's also humoring me by picking up a new couch thingy for the office/library, so that I have a reading space nearby the computers. The end is in sight! Our door is now red. Walk-through is on Friday morning.

I'm off to obtain cake! It's PG's birthday today and there must be cake...

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