The Unnamed Interaction

So. It occurs to me that, by and large, I have been posting under the “Private” setting. It isn’t that I don’t enjoy posting to my friends, it’s just that I feel that a person should be able to enjoy smearing goat butter where ever she likes without some voluble exhibitionist (that would be me) bandying the news about in public. So.

Gardening proceeds apace, turning a patch of asphault in the barrio of Corvallis into a riot of blooms and foliage. Bridgette’s cats have come to not merely accept my presence, but expect it and resent it when I fail to show. Mornings begin with my strolling over on the way to work, entertaining the cats and making myself tea, and passing time with Bridgette when she comes home from work, before I leave for mine. Generally, I pass by again on the way home and we sort of exchange roles as she preps for work and I come down for the evening. Very pleasant.

Bridgette recently showed uncommon personal ability (not unique to my experience, but rare) by noticing that she was the obstacle standing between herself and things that benefitted her (that would be relating to me) and so she — stopped. Didn’t look for outside assistance, didn’t make excuses, just fixed things that she was doing and got out of her own way.

Cool

We poked about for signs of panic, claustrophobia, over-involvement, and didn’t find any on either part. Hard to get used to not living from crisis to crisis. Hard to get used to developments being good things. Hard to get used to people around me taking care of their own problems (again, not unique in my experience, but the folk I know who do that live miles and miles away).

I think I like it, rather a lot.

And there’s nothing wrong with smearing goat butter, if the butter’s fresh.

Oh — right. “The Unnamed Interaction.” There has been some discussion on interpersonal interaction nomenclature; we have been doing something that is not just dating, although there have been date-like happenings. More than friends. Much more than insignificant others. Significant others … a bit premature, we both feel. My vote is for calling what we are doing a “mature relationship”, but Bridgette wants no part of anything that includes the word “mature”…which I sympathize with on principle. We have determined to enjoy a nomenclatureless interaction and simply celebrate that it’s working so well on so many levels.

But. I must point out that, if it quacks like a duck, swims like a duck, and seeks out the god of vengeance, Horus, like a duck would, one must suspect that it may be some form of waterfowl. Y’know, I gotta say this is some sort of early stage of significant other kind of relationship. But denial is a pleasant sort of exercise, and keeps the panicky stuff at bay, so I’m not pushing. Shutting up is my best skill, these days, and I’m honing it finer.

Most people are relieved.

Crossposted from Epinephrine & Sophistry