Week Thirty Five - A Day in The Life - Holding Weather Pattern - or Pattern on Hold?

This week, when Paul asked me
again if I wanted to
spend some time with him, I didn’t hesitate. I said yes right
away. I must
confess several times this week I have been thinking about the
“date’ we had last
week and hoped he would invite me out again. And he did.
Paul looked so cute, with a
shirt I had bought him
for his last birthday and the jeans he knows I love. I wonder if he
thought
about this before dressing that morning, or it was just pure
coincidence. At
any other time I would have said the second, but now I am not sure. He
seemed
to be looking at me more often than he did in previous weeks. In
session, his
tone of voice was softer. He asked me if I agreed with what he was
saying, and
listened when it was my turn to talk.
Of course it is too early to
know what’s going to
happen between us. Yet I can’t help thinking that he notices, he is concerned,
he is apologetic when appropriate
and
he is empathic rather than telling
me
what I should feel. It feels like he has been reading self help books
to
understand what happened between us and what needs to be done to fix
the
problems.
I know I shouldn’t
trust this transformation yet.
Let’s see if it continues, I tell myself. After all, it has
been only three
weeks… But I am glad for all these changes, nonetheless.
Today in our session we
discussed Paul’s job and what
happened when he was laid off (or fired?) Paul talked about his shame
about not
having a job, and his fear that I would think my father was right in
not having
a very high opinion of him and would stop loving him. I wished he had
felt
comfortable telling me these things back then, rather than months
later. It
certainly would have saved us a lot of aggravation and pain. But, said
Marsha,
perhaps we needed for things to develop the way they did, as Paul has
had time
to reflect and is now able to talk about his true feelings, rather than
hiding
them behind an air of bravado, as he used to do.
The bartender winked at us when
we entered the bar.
We headed for the back table again, hoping none of our friends would
come in
for a while. We had a half hour to ourselves, before some of our
friends joined
us. And in that half hour Paul sat very close to me, rather than across
the
table, and took my hand again. “It’s lonely without
you,” he said softly. “I
can’t wait for us to be together all the time
again.”
I said nothing, because I had so
many feelings all at
the same time that I did not know which one to pay attention to.