Almost daily diary!

Friday, September 12, 2008

History

When Husband returned home tonight we had a couple of glasses of wine and talked about an odd assortment of things. Somehow we got onto the subject of that very 'first kiss' and the way it can make us feel. He thinks that to go back with the knowledge we have now would spoil all those first experiences. I think it would add to the intensity of feeling. We mulled over our previous lives, the important things, the way that, when you're younger things seem so much more intense.

After a while I found myself in tears. It was unintentional and I felt ashamed, trying to hide, but he knows me too well. I always find it hard to look forward and often look back to the golden years with fondness but possibly through rose coloured spectacles. Husband was surprised at my tears. He doesn't know a great deal about my previous relationships. The intensity of my first love, the passion, the endless range of emotions and, even now, how it is all so very vivid and still raw.

It was a great love. A love (and lust) which I know I will never experience again. Which was destined to exist only for a while, but even so, consumes me now. It lasted 10 years, off and on, and every moment is etched indelibly on my heart, my soul, my being. I am blessed that I have experienced such emotion, for some never do.

My tears are not for the past. For that worked itself out and can never be relived. The tears are for the present and the future. The absence of that passion, that first love, that emotion. I know those emotions have been replaced by a comfort and solidness that others long for. A comfortable family life. A normal life. No risks, no searing pain, no excitement, no heart wrenching fondness.

I have so much to be thankful for. But to carry on in a passionless life is like living in a world of pastel hues. Pretty, nice, but just a little faded.

20 comments:

Kitty said...

I suspect most of us can relate to this. I know I can. But who knows what's round the corner? Something might happen in your life which turns those pastels the richest hue you've ever seen.

Take it from someone who, just 3 short years ago didn't imagine her life could take the twists and turns it has.

You just never know.

Take care of yourself. (((hugs)))

x

Susan said...

Wow1 You have walked in my shoes and I am sure so many others. I had a relationship just like that and it is amazing how a song or smell that takes me back to that time. I know had things been different and I kept that love I wouldn't have the children I have today. I know that where I am today is where I am suppose to be~but I sometimes find myself in a what if state where I wonder...
I feel that my life would not have stayed so rosey if I had that first love still. I feel that even though this is not as rainbow riden as my first love it is where I am suppose to be. Chin up!

Dori said...

In some ways I'm envious of your anonymity--you have the ability to be open and honest in ways that I am not.

Is there not a space somewhere in the middle? Somewhere between the blinding, searing passion of the new and cozy comfort of the familiar? Or is that the same question we all ask ourselves?

I suppose I should warn you that this will most likely spur a blog post of my own...

Suzysoo said...

She's right, you know! xx

Akelamalu said...

Hindsight is a wonderful thing. If we only knew then what we know now we would have grasped everything with both hands and held on tight! Back then there was always another day, now there may not be.

BS5 Blogger said...

Crikey! You are something else sometimes and Husband is a jolly lucky chap; I hope you know that.

Liz said...

Suburbia, this is unbearably sad. My first question has to be: does your husband read your blog? Or your daughter?

If your life doesn't have passion then what does it have? Oh my, as I write this I realise that I should be talking to myself. I rarely feel extremes of emotion but have become good at pretending. This isn't really the thing to discuss in an open forum though!!

I am off on holiday this afternoon (have I mentioned that I'm going to Canada?!!!) I'm going to be meeting two blogger friends. Maybe when I'm back we could meet up. Bristol's a bit closer to Swansea than Vancouver is so it shouldn't be impossible!

We'll have to set up a blog meet!

mutleythedog said...

Why not divorce him and try again? Just a thought.....

Maggie May said...

Oh Suburbia, that was quite an emotional post! Can't think how that blazing passion could go on for years & years...... it would wear you down! Has to tail off! Blimey I can hardly remember it now.
Only joking!

Suburbia said...

Hi Susan and thankss. It's good to know I'm normal. Well sort of!!

Dori, can't wait to read your post. I love my anonimity!!

Hi Soo and thanks Akelamalu, you are right.

BS5, I'm not sure what you mean but thanks anyway, it sounds nice!

Liz, as far as I know I am anon! Husband does not read it and daughter loiters behind me sometimes but doesn't know how to find it yet!
Would love to meet you :)

Welcome Mutley and thanks for that thought!!!

Maggie, it went on for years because it was interupted, off and on over those years. Therefore the excitment remained.

Hullaballoo said...

Sweetheart, I have learnt from bitter experience never to assume that people I write about don't read my blog, {{{{Suburbia}}}. It is worth asking yourself how he might feel if he read it on your blog.

It may be worthwhile to explore it more deeply on a restricted access blog, with trusted blog chums who are loving, non-judgemental, experienced and supportive.

And counselling, either individual, couple or group may be appropriate, but only if it feels OK for you.

And yes, it is wondeful that you have experienced that intensity and so sad that there is such a gap between that and your current experience.

I feel for you. Take good care of yourself, my friend. You have been so loving to me, I feel I want to give something back to you.

xxxx

Elizabeth said...

Gosh, Suburbia!
Some post.
What you say is utterly true.
However, mad passion does not last and after 36 years of matrimony some of the bumps have been ironed out.
It is a long and often difficult journey.
I know exactly how you feel - as do most of your readers, I'm sure.
Hugs.

Fat, frumpy and fifty... said...

Elizabeth...well said...l have 33 yrs in the can..but it is a tough road...one never knows what is around the corner...

Liz...l dont think it is necessarily sad... just how we are all different and have differing, ways at looking at things... memories of a young passion and romance,is often reflected upon... though we know it has nothing on a steady, nurtured, (sometimes not) loving relationship...reading between the lines, l think that suburbia's husband knows her and loves her...but one can yearn for that youthful passion..

suburbia, l can relate to you..l live in the past, am a vintage seller have my own biz, and would have an eclectic nostalgic mix of a house, if my husband didnt say NO, often...l resent that too...and l get very romantic about the past, before him...my teens, and all the angst..but I KNOW this is better and worth more than l sometimes give. I have recently felt I've understood why a woman of a certain age wander...but with so much to lose..it aint worth it..l will play my 70s music, and day dream, but I wouldnt swap it..though the nostalgic melancholy can creep in... it is a rose coloured state of mind we have.
I have passion, happiness, even joy, but it is only minutes in a year..my husband rarely says he loves me, yet l know he does. He is steady and kind and even plodding, I am high or low and exciteable and creative..we now accept our differences, that grow wider each year, but try and nuture our similarities, as one day we will be alone together again...and I would hate havig to start over...
sorry this is so long..l got carried away..
and l dont know if he reads my blog, but L blog assuming he does, so perhaps l hold much back...shame, but I wasnt careful at the get go...so l always consider that the kids and he MAY read it..just in case they do..

hope this hit the supportive note I intended...

Suburbia said...

Saz. BIG thanks. You know how I feel and thanks so much for sharing. I realise what I have is stable and necessary and loving (in a boring but normal way!) But sometimes the rose coloured specks just sneek out of my pocket. It was good though!

Fat, frumpy and fifty... said...

btw...I would love it if you could read this post today...

http://fatfrumpyandfifty.blogspot.com/2008/09/omgosh-my-first-award.html

Saz

Anonymous said...

I was moved to respond to your blog entry, a first time for me. I was married for 20 years. For 20 years, I told myself I was happy and in a good marriage. But I wasn't happy and I wasn't in a good marriage. In fact, it was very destructive for me. Life is hard when you face up to reality, but better than lies. I would rather be where I am now than where I was, even in the dark days. I am alone, but I have the most wonderful life, with wonderful friends and I have been and am going places I never would have if I'd stayed in my "other" life. Life is never easy. Choices have consequencies. But, for me, now, being real with myself is better. I don't know what tomorrow will bring. I may always be alone. But, I am growing and learning and being in a whole world I never knew before. You only live once. My advice is don't compromise. I'm 50 next birthday. It's never too late. You won't hear my words. So I'll delete them and it'll be like they never existed. No harm done.

Suburbia said...

Anon, I don't know if you'll ever read this but thanks so much for taking the time to comment. It's a big thing to do. Congratulations on being so strong. One day I maybe too.

Anonymous said...

Thank you for taking the time to read my comment and for posting it. Your response warmed my heart. It was a big move for me, commenting on your blog. I am just beginning to be able to tell my story to friends and to new people I meet. And you are one, and thank you for listening. I have grown strong, but it has been a challenge for me. I'm quite a reserved and a private person and when I clicked ok to send you my comment, I felt I'd said too much. So thank you for your support. And my heart goes out to you. I wish for you the life you wish for yourself.

Suburbia said...

I hope you'll visit and comment again. It's fun and addictive!

the eternal worrier said...

The sentence ‘I always find it hard to look forward and often look back to the golden years with fondness but possibly through rose coloured spectacles’ describes me to a T. That’s a fantastic post and brought tears to my eyes. Don’t think that you won’t have those past feelings again, as none of us know what’s round the corner.