I’m Going to Have to Do It
Had a lovely dinner tonight at BeeGoddessM and Stephanie‘s, who are entertaining the visiting BeeGoddessC. Two thoughts sprang to my mind as I was parking Junior in the garage.
(1) I looked up a term that was used tonight in conversation and realize now that it was used in a manner Wikipedia describes as a clinomorphism, which makes it more tolerable to me in that I wouldn’t dispute “describ[ing my] behavior [as] picky or pedantic.”
(2) By now I’ve mentioned my intentions to move to Montreal to so many people (including my boss, my mother, and in this blog) — all of whom agree that it would be the right thing for me — that I have to do it or else be prepared to live with being dismissed as someone who’s all talk but no action.
Regarding the first, it came up in the context of yours truly and “relationships,” the scare quotes being used here to refer to the fact the word was used in its narrow, euphemistic sense. Truth is, quite coincidentally, I’ve been giving this notion a lot of thought lately. In fact, several people have made remarks on the passage of my Facebook profile where I write, “I’m a lifelong bachelor who enjoys this status for the most part; I’m not sure I’m relationship material because I get bored of them easily.” Yet, a few weeks ago, I caught myself feeling disappointed that a “friend with benefit” I just made — how are we doing now on the euphemism front? — will never be anything more than that. I even went as far as to idly wonder if I’d be prepared to be the stepfather of two kids in order to have this funny and highly delicious character as a permanent fixture in my life! (Yeah, very scary.) And to add to the confusion, I do know myself well enough to know that I believe monogomy is a matter of the heart, a question of loyalty that for me — dawg that I am — doesn’t mean I would have to swear off everything else on the sexual menu. I realize that might come across to some as an excuse for lasciviousness, but for me it’s more complex than that. For there’s something else I know well about myself: when I choose to be loyal to someone — a partner, a friend, a colleague at work — that loyalty knows practically no bounds.
And that brings me to the second thought: Montreal. It is true that I’m bored with Halifax, and I think one sliver of that boredom stems from how this town is too small and not the kind of place where I’m likely to meet a life partner who’d understand the ideal I just described. But take me out of a wading pool and put my in an olympic-size pool, perhaps my chances would be a heck of a lot better, not to mention that I crave more than ever being in a place that is truly alive and diverse. I am, after all, an incorrigible people watcher, and frankly, the people in this town for the most part strike me as extremely monochromatic.
Anyway, I don’t need to talk myself into leaving this place more than I already have. But my worry at this point is that I may develop a case of cold feet and wouldn’t know how to live it down if I do. And I’m also wondering if I haven’t been completely honest with myself about my motives for wanting to move to a major city.