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Spring wore down to a close and summer began. That's how this volume
of Rhythm of Life begins, which is fitting since volume 3 began with
the seasons change last year. Now I know it's a little late to be
talking about the beginning of Summer, but bear with me, we'll catch
up to present day fast enough indeed. I would initially like to welcome
you all back to the Fantastic Fourth volume of Rhythm of Life.
Which almost didn't happen. As summer began and I read back upon volume
3, I though to myself, damn Dave, you've written some pretty good
stuff here.
Until of course, I found friends of mine calling and writing to me
with questions about their love lives, and I realized that I really
don't have any answers. I thought to myself, why write Rhythm of Life?
Who in the hell will take you seriously. You're in a good relationship
now, what "issues" could possibly develop into a weekly
writing extravaganza (patent pending)
Then it hit me. It took three dates for me to even get the courage
to kiss this girl. I've got issues, I've got PLENTY of issues, and
from there, the volume wrote itself. Consider this article not only
one of these "issues" but an introduction to the themes
that will encompass this volume: Growing up, one day at a time.
We begin in June, only a few weeks after Volume 3 left off. I had
just gotten back from a week long vacation at my mom's new house in
New Era, filled to the brim with brand new things that made my stylish
apartment even more awesome than it had been. I awoke one morning,
as I usually did during this wonderful 3 month break from my normal
job, to realize just how plain and boring living in a white house
with white walls really was.
The thing is however, my house does have some color. I have a hideous,
orange bathroom hastily painted by my landlord in an attempt to add
anti-boring to the apartmental mix. I don't know if it was the new
furniture, the fact that I had FINALLY unpacked the last of the boxes
from when I moved in last fall, or the fact that for the first time
in my life, I was facing 3 months with paychecks but no job, but I
got it into my head that morning that what I'd been kicking around
all along had to be done.
I needed change.
Changes started of course, in April when I met Stacey. Suddenly, pounds
began rolling off of me, which is good because I quickly discovered
exactly where that extra set of keys had been hiding. I was growing
as a teacher, as a boyfriend, and of course, as a person, and suddenly,
the Sheryl Crow song "A Change will Do You Good" came on
the radio and it just hit me. Sing it Sheryl, you know what you're
talking about.
The best place for me to begin changing was to unveil a brand new
apartment on my friends and family. I did NOT however, even want to
THINK about actually moving, so I called up my landlord to see exactly
what I could do to get the best of both worlds. The solution was 3
gallons of paint and 50 dollars knocked off my rent that month.
Meanwhile, Kara had been facing changes of her own for much longer
than I had. Just when she had declared herself perpetually single,
way back in December, a new boy entered her life and swept her off
her feet. The fact that they had made it six months didn't surprise
me, the fact that she almost never had anything bad to say about him
did. I love Kara to death, but when she's dating someone, negativity
usually comes as quickly as a Happy Meal ™
While some negativity did creep in over the sixth months they've been
dating at the time of writing this particular article, I've got to
give both her and Justin credit. They're one of the few couples I've
come across that might actually work out.
Justin works an insurance company in Muskegon, Kara of course, still
works in Cadillac. Her home base of operations however, was another
thing that was changing for Kara. Kara was leaving Cadillac, leaving
my daily routine, and moving 45 minutes away to a place called Big
Rapids. So while I was moving all of my furniture into other rooms
in my house, she began loading it all into a UHaul.
So I was making changes both physical and emotional (since I love
my apartment so much, the emotional aspect is my apartment) and some
of them I was making intentionally, LIKE the apartment, and some of
them were out of my control.
Like the way I felt around Stacey. Things were going so unbelievably
well, and yet, my own negativity was creeping in. The old Dave liked
being a hermit. When I would get a chance to be alone, I would take
it. When I received an invitation for an all expense paid trip to
Washington D.C. for a teaching conference however, Stacey bought a
plane ticket to go with me. It seemed as if she were moving things
forward at a rate I wasn't accustomed to, and to put it plainly, was
a little uncomfortable with.
I began throwing some curve balls to test the water. I can't leave
my apartment for at least two years while I pay off my credit card
consolidation loan was taken with a "Well, I don't want to live
in Frankfort forever". I'm having an evening with the guys turned
into "Great, I'll be over around 8." I won't see you for
a few days turns into at least two phone calls a day. I have no money
turns into "We'll just sit around and shoot the shit."
I can do everything I've listed above with my friends, but when it
comes to relationships with those I'm dating, why can't I do it there?
Am I non-committal?
Her family was the next problem. They love me, and shower me with
welcomness and invitations to come over whenever I wanted to. I would
usually have no problem with this, but for some reason, it too made
me a little uncomfortable. Suddenly, Kara and my roles in relationships
were completely reversed. She's signing on the dotted line, and I'm
signing up for every committee or meeting that can get me away from
the relationship for a breath of fresh air.
Hardly the thing that good relationships are made of, no? As I began
boxing things up in my apartment and moving them to various safe places
to avoid the massive onslaught of pain that was coming, I thought
about my previous relationships and what ended them. If it was really
the other person, the excuse I so desperately clung to, or if perhaps,
I'm just a hard guy to like.
My thoughts turned back to Meghan, and how we had broken up and I
realized that I was truly to blame for the time that mattered. I had
been the one putting on labels when the time wasn't right. When the
relationship started to look like it was coming around for a second
pass, I was the one that made it clear I wasn't ready for anything,
thus ending that.
Suddenly it seemed my apartment wasn't the only thing that needed
a fresh coat of paint. My attitude did as well.
Kara seemed to agree with me one night over boxes at her place, where
I inherited a lamp, a decorative scale, and the wisdom that I needed
to lay my cards down and make sure we were on the same page.
The next day I threw tarps over my apartment, and with Stacey's help,
began painting a bright new apartment. By the time we had finished,
I had not only laid down my cards saying "Take me as I am",
but she had laid down hers as well.
As we sat sipping wine in my completely trashed apartment, I felt
better about a lot of things. Maybe I could survive without Kara around
to keep me constant company. Maybe I could survive my second year
of teaching with the children even kindergarten teachers referred
to as the demon spawn.
And most importantly, maybe I could survive an actual, honest to goodness
relationship.
I didn't change, but in a way I did. Normally, I would allow things
like my pet peeves to widen a gap between myself and my significant
other, until we were both standing on opposite sides screaming "What?
What did you say?"
This time I'm starting to build a bridge.
A change has done me good. I thought as I began unpacking the boxes
I had freshly packed the night before, secure in colors, imagination,
and a meaningful relationship.
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