Lucky In Love

Don't tell my husband, but I slept with another man last night...and he was a "late night" after having been out with yet a different guy. My "date" was young, dashing, very funny and looked like a J.Crew model; my "late night" was smoldering and intellectual with a very sharp wit, and he may very well be the only surviving Renaissance Man. I have known both of these men for over half my life, and with each, our intense affairs involve significant amounts of time spent in Chapel Hill. I must admit that I am utterly head over Heels in love with each one of them. But before you begin the ponder the details of my having both a long-distance marriage and an "open" long-distance marriage, let me assure you that I was completely sober last night and that the first thing I did when I awakened this morning was call my husband and tell him that I woke up in bed with another man. He laughed and said, "then that was one lucky guy!"

Background: 

Although we are separated by almost seven years, my brother and I have a twin-like synergy that runs between us. And although I am rumored to have demanded that my mother "send him back" when I was told of his gender, over time, say fifteen years or so, I came to see the value of accepting his existence. Genetically, we are more similar to one another than to any other being, and experientially, we were shaped in the most similar enviornment possible. Undoubtedly, we were forged by the fires of hell that we walked through together; in a bizarre way, that was one gift our parents gave us. But the foundation of our adult relationship truly began when he came to Carolina in the fall of 1990.

Having graduated in 1989, I had the benefit of an apartment in Chapel Hill, reliable transportation, and a job with some expendable income; all valuable commodities to a freshman in those days. We ate at Breadmen's, we drank at Henderson Street and I baked him Mrs. Paul's deep dish apple pie (with Breyer's vanilla) on cold winter nights. We went to Festifall and Apple Chill, ate lasagna at the Rat and cheered our beloved Baby Blue at athletic events, when he wasn't too busy studying or hanging out with his friends. In retrospect, I was able to be the Big Sister I had not been when I was consumed with escaping Cabarrus County. As we crunched across the leaves on the Quad and marveled at the blossoms on the trees of West Franklin, we were re-forming ourselves, individually and collectively, and creating a "family" of our own...complete with a new history of shared experiences.

It has been almost 21 years since that autumn, but walking across the ice-covered bricks last night on the way from Top of the Hill to the Dean Dome was both familiar and unique; who we were becoming then has spiraled into who we are becoming again. And as an intense, sloppy battle against Virginia Tech gave way to the opening notes of our alma mater, "Hark the Sound", the years and the experiences between us melted away.  We swayed left to right, and sang the words we rever, in gratitude for all that our time at Carolina had given us, and all of the victories, personal and athletic, yet to be claimed.

After the game, he headed north, returning to Charlotte for an early morning meeting and I headed east towards Morrisville and RDU. My "late night" greeted me warmly at the door of his house and then carried my overnight bag up the stairs. With both of his children sleeping soundly elsewhere, one on the living room couch, we crawled up onto his bed; laughing and taunting and jousting intellectually, surrounded by his overflowing bookcases, with his very essence displayed in photographic form on the walls around us.

He is the only friend left in my life who has journeyed with me through every incarnation, which is comforting, humbling, and at times, humiliating. He remembers details about my experiences that I have purposefully chosen to forget...but he brandishes them cheerfully and with good intent. He has supported me tirelessly and honestly...he is the person I would turn to when I could not make sense of the pieces and needed clarity. And he is also the person who escorted me last July when I married Gerald on Smather Beach....he said that Gerald was the only man I had ever been with that he found worthy of "giving me away". And so, sometime around 2:00 AM, the laughter quieted and the breathing regulated and we crawled under the quilt and slept.

Eight and a half-hours later I retrieved the Love of My Life from the Southwest Terminal and we wisked ourselves back to the land of  snow removal, getting the decorations to storage (finally!) and our kids basketball games at the Rec all day tomorrow.

So, let the record show that I have loved three amazing men in less than seventeen hours. Each one of them aware of and respectful of the roles the others play in making me who I am. And now I return home to two amazing men-in-the making. By any measure, that makes ME the lucky one.