Reconnecting at a pizzeria

September 24, 2009

We went down to Acqui Terme (about a five minute drive down a long hill) last night for a little passeggiata (evening walk) before an early dinner. Town has about 20,000 people and is about a mile down a long hill. A narrow road.

The little wine bar we liked so well Tuesday night was closed mercoledi (Wed.). The first restaurant open for dinner was a pizzeria with seating that overlooked the piazza.

Over a Moretti (him) and a Prosecco not nearly as good as we’d had at the wine bar (me) we continued the process of talking, talking, talking. Of reconnecting.

After a gap of almost three decades filled with so many experiences for us both, it’s not possible to just step in and have it all fit perfectly. We’ve built expectations built on years of other experiences.

We couldn’t have had more different relationships. And styles in those relationships.

My epiphany: I’d built a style of interacting in relationship that was constructed completely as a result of our divorce. But now that we’re back together, it’s just not applicable.

It’s ironic. I never dated anyone remotely like M again. Never. On purpose. And I certainly never made myself that vulnerable ever again.

And he’s not a big communicator. As opposed to me, who addresses everything head on, and sometimes with a huge bludgeon.

With the wisdom of age, we are learning to adapt our styles, to make this marriage flow in new and important ways for us both.

Last night at the pizzeria we talked about all of this, deeply, intimately. We talked about how our families had informed our styles and the people we’d become. The good parts, the bad parts. Of course, it was easy for us both to make those connections for the other because we knew one another’s families. Well.

But back then, we were both clueless. Now, we actually have insight we can apply.

After dinner, we came back to our room and spent a few hours playing and laughing. Hard. At everything. We do that well. Like the kids we were backthen.

Since our reconnection, I’ve tried to make sense of these nearly three decades. I’ve alternated between wishing we’d never separated and knowing we’d had to.

I’ve come out on the other side, though.

I wouldn’t have changed a thing about those 30 years of my life. I had great adventures, lots of fun and I learned so much.

Mostly, I grew up. I had to grow up.

I’m happy that Michael had a delightful life, too.

The ability to connect now is a gift we never stop giving thanks for.

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