As of yesterday, he’s back. The Boy has returned, after alerting me a few days ago that his housing situation had gone sideways. Immediately, I went into action and started to chat with the Hubz about what we could do. The Boy and I have been negotiating a peaceful reconfiguration of our connection, both of us realizing that we have a bond that, try as we might, still exists and still needs some attention, so when he reached out, it wasn’t a moment to fall back into old habits and patterns and such. It’s a new chance, perhaps, to be the kind of person in his life I had intended on being all along.
The Hubz agreed, we could let him back in, with a word of caution about losing myself in that connection again. I vowed to him, and to another partner, that I would not do that. This is a reconnect on terms that make far more sense to me.
The Boy will have more autonomy, more freedom to explore his own heart and meet new people. I’ve put out there that I am still working on my own heart-shape, and that I’ve come to some realizations about the way I work as a human in relationship to others, and told him my discoveries so far. Together, though, we are finding far more common ground, and are starting to develop new spaces and ways to both keep exploring what he and I share, but also leave room for our own personal growth and development. I don’t feel the pressure to change how I love, or who I share my heart with. I also am willing to face down the insecurities that I still hold, and the ways I manage my behavior when things get tricky. It’s a constant work in progress, and I want to demonstrate to myself, and to those around me, including the Boy, that I’m capable of growth and change, even at the prime age of forty-five.
We spent the day getting him set up. A trip to Costco for groceries, that he bought. A lovely, cuddly nap. A trip to IKEA to get other pieces of furniture both for the room he’s in, but also as furniture I’ll need once that space is returned back to me as my office. As he was assembling the desk we bought, I gave him space in his room, to do what he wanted. He needed to make some phone calls, and deal with other things, and giving him space to be on his own for that felt important. Plus, I’d spent all day with him, and needed my own decompression time too. I needed to quiet my mind, sift through some thoughts, and remember who I am, and where I am in all of this. I don’t want to get lost in the shuffle and feels that all of this generated the last time we cohabitated.
It wasn’t until later, around the time that I was contemplating that I should get to bed, that I got a text, asking me to spend the night with him. I said that it would be a lovely thing, and agreed to do so, but it should be noted that I never assumed I’d be sleeping with him. It’s a boundary and behavior I want to employ going forward. I will go where I’m invited, either to the bed I share with my Hubz, or if the Boy wants company overnight. But he’s going to have to ask for it. It makes me feel wanted, when he does ask, but it also makes me feel like I’m supporting him and giving him more authority over his life, when he doesn’t ask.
His time here is limited, as he’s actively seeking to find a space for himself, and that also has added a bit of reprieve from the pressure I felt before. I am really just thankful for the opportunity to provide him shelter and quiet and peace while his life, which is seemingly full of chaos, rolls onward. I do not miss the messiness of my late twenties/early thirties. I know he’ll find his way, he’s a survivor of the highest order, but if I can make that journey a little more comfortable for him, because I truly do love him in a way I didn’t see coming, the better I feel.