Making Room for Two

If I am to overcome being alone, my first step would be to acknowledge that I would no longer be living for myself; that I, being not alone, must consider the partner in my decisions; that my self-intent necessitates the mental presence of another person in my self-view. That I must change my thinking and build out the room to accommodate two people. It could be a sudden change, like picking up a new hobby, moving to a new neighborhood, working a new position; there’s a mental click that happens at some point (usually mediated by oxytocin) where the connections in my mind fuse together to create a redefined sense of self and my self’s place in the world. This is necessary.

I must admit, not necessarily verbally, but to my own self, that being not alone requires an expectation of chaos and surprise. My partner will make decisions on their own, just as I would. I must elevate myself above the simplicity of living for my own self and be ready to respond to novelty, trouble, and surprise without losing track of my own goals. I must adapt, adjust, acknowledge change, and seek out novel ways to fix the things that break and work out agreements to overcome potential troubles down the road.

The idealist’s view is that “coupling” is the continual act of hitching two horses together; if the wagon is to go anywhere, it requires the horses to act in some semblance of a unit. Each horse cannot act alone of its own free will without diminishing the momentum and direction of the whole. You and I know that this image is too simple and far from the truth. In reality, a couple is more like a pair of first-graders tied together with a bungee cord and sent into the big kids’ playground. First, there’s strain, there’s struggle, there’s compromise, then finally there’s planning and partnership. Both partners must be willing to commit to it to attain the greater rewards.

Talking is necessary. Without talking, there is only uncertainty, fear, and failure. The most successful of animals chatter a lot. It’s not something I do very well, but with practice I could get better. Being a deaf-mute dreamer means I won’t be troubled with the relationship for long. I cannot afford that.

Most people have learned these lessons in their youth. I, for some reason, must keep relearning them. Bear with me.

Published by Shawn

He's just this guy, you know?