I live in one of the states that legalized gay marriage last night.
I watched Bee the night before last. Once again, Gia and Eric went to "cuddle" in their room while I played with Bee in the living room. I cared even less than last time. So, that's very nice. Bee can say my name now, though I don't know if he's yet made the connection that it means me. As usual, we had a lot of fun together.
I went over to their place last night, just to hang out and watch the election results roll in. At one point I was reading Bee a book. He lost interest and Eric scooped him up. But, after a minute, Bee reached back out to me and fussed and said "mama!"
I wasn't expecting that. To be fair, he calls Eric mama sometimes, and has occasionally applied it to others as well, like his grandparents. He definitely associates the word with Gia, but he also seems to associate it with being cared for and with home generally. Still, it was an odd moment, him reaching for me and saying that word. Eric handed him back and I held him for a while longer.
Later that night, Gia and I were hanging out in the living room while Eric was holed up with Bee in the bedroom, working on his writing. He came out, wide-eyed and grinning, excited about a scene that had come out very well. Gia jumped up and gave him a hug. After a minute's hesitation, I hugged him as well. He was standing next to me. I stayed seated, grabbing him around his waist.
Suddenly, the election news feed we'd been watching froze. "What happened?" Gia asked. "I don't know, I hugged Eric and it broke everything," I said. It was meant to be a joke, but the moment I said it I felt a rush of embarrassment, like I'd just revealed a deep, personal fear in too-plain language. *shrug* I'd been drinking a little. No idea if either of them read into it the way I did. The moment passed, the night went on.
With Gia, I feel so at ease. I occasionally clarify what's ok and what's not, but in general I'm so comfortable and secure in her space and presence. With Eric, in contrast, I feel like I'm always aware of the fact that we're not in my house, not in my space. Part of it is probably just my hang-ups, and part of it is probably a very appropriate respect and consideration for someone with whom I'm a friend and guest, not a partner. And then, there's the simple fact that he just doesn't project an air of welcome. It's not part of his makeup, I don't hold it against him.
I find myself, when he's around, being very conscious to not block his access to Gia, to Bee, to his spaces and his things. Without shrinking into myself, I try not to take up too much room. Their house isn't big, and I never want him to feel like his space is made less by my presence, like I'm an imposition to be put up with until I'm gone, y' know? I want him to feel, and to know, that I respect his place in his own home, and that I can find my own spaces of comfort. And so there's this little dance that happens. As just one example, if I'm sitting in his computer chair, next to Gia, and he comes into the room and looks like he's going to stay, I find a reason to get up, to go get some water or something, and invariably he settles into his chair and I settle onto the couch. Like with so much, I don't know if he's as aware of it as I am.
Saturday, my November date with Gia. We're going to a pottery-making class. Tuesday, she and Bee come to dinner with my parents.