Telephobe

I shouldn't really be blogging right how.  I should be getting my stuff together for our trip to California.  I'm excited!  I love trips, large and small; I love being with Chuck and I think his kids are great company;  [sing this part] it will be WARM there!  For the first time in many years, I will not be hosting a dinner party.  I will get to meet Chuck's family.  We will go sailing; maybe hiking; I want to run on the beach.  I want to be near the water.

The first time I went on a long car journey with Chuck, I was  preoccupied by the idea that I might have to provide stimulating conversation the whole way.  Maybe this was it!  Ohmygawd!  The moment when he discovers that I'm boring!  In the end (because I always end up confessing my little eccentricities to him) I asked if long stretches of silence were OK by him, and he said they were.  And they were. 

That may have been the first time he used the adjective "comfy" to describe our relationship.

Since then, we have started developing what many people call a "mature" relationship. That means that we can keep our hands off each other, and we don't have to be talking to each other every minute that we're together.  It is, in fact, very pleasant to just hang out and read.  Or I putz in the kitchen at Aloha while he goes off to run errands.  This is a lovely feeling:  the sense that your special person is with you even when he is not with you. Or the feeling of being happy with what you are doing, and knowing that when your special person comes back, you will simply be happier.

Other times, though, I think, "Mature relationship?  Could that not be a euphamistic way of saying that I am deathly dull?" When we first met, Chuck said he loved my "quick wit".  I told him at the time that I was not always like that.  Sometimes, my tongue feels thick and clumsy.  Sometimes I lack fluency, even regarding things that I care passionately about.

I often voice my thoughts the best when I am lying in the dark, waiting for sleep.  Or after school ends for the evening adn I am sitting with Chuck on the sofa.  Across the table in a restaurant?  Sometimes I have language, other times, not.  And ON THE PHONE!?!?!?!  The pits!  I HATE talking on the phone.  This is why I almost never call my mother; or anyone else in my family, for that matter.  I will text people when a phone call would be more practical.  I will want to hear Chuck's voice, but refuse to pick up the phone and call him.

He is having a little difficulty with his phone at the moment, so he can't call me.  I miss his little calls during the day.  But I am shy about calling him.  The idea of calling without a reason embarrasses me, and I find myself thinking, "What if he is busy and doesn't care to talk?"  I have been making myself call him after the kids are in bed, just to ask about his day.  He seems to like it, but I struggle.  Now that our relationship is in a peaceful, happy place, there are no "US" problems.  So, we talk about our days. As in, "I did this, and then this happened, and I talked to so-and-so, and she said.."  I think, "What a dull tool I am!" 

But something has hit me just now: in thinking this over; I really think it's the medium.  When we are sitting face to face, I never feel this way.

You know what my problem is?  I am NOT boring.  How can a person with  a head so full of dreams and hopes and plans be boring? I embrace every day.  I am not a bore.  What I AM is unbelievably self-conscious. 

I'll tell you what would be "mature": if I didn't care so much about other people's opinion.  I need to remember to just relax into myself and expect that I will be loved for who I am, not for what I do and how well I do it.