we are married.
we have been married 25 years; met when we were 16, fell in love, dated, broke up, back together in college, married after graduation. his mother hates me, my parents love him. our friends thought we were cute and obviously self-aware soulmates. our friends and families understood that our differences just made it interesting and our similarities were our shared wierdness; rocky horror, dune, tolkien, lucas.
he doesn't want to be weird anymore.
so we got married and moved for his job then got a house out in the suburbs- but we forgot to have children. we borrowed our neighbors' and friends' kids, hired them for responsible help once they became responsible, and lived quiet suburban lives. still with the weird twist, fen, which we only induldged in out of town.
we made friends. well, mostly i did, but they always liked him. we had parties, we hung out with people, we did interesting things with interesting people. we stood out from the crowd, even when we avoided crowds.
we bought a new, bigger house. we had visitors, friends, family. we had pets. we cooked, talked, bought computers early and styles late, rarely argued. we had sex during thunderstorms.
and then we moved to a place that didn't have thunderstorms. this is not a metaphor. we moved for his job; no thunderstorms but i liked this state more. i was in a state of happiness. this was a much cooler place, a more active place, a place my wierdness fit more and his....faded away.
i don't know when he started losing himself; i'd always thought he was there. he liked the house we bought, but he didn't like himself in it. he didn't like other people in it. the largest house we'd ever had is the emptiest. it's really empty since he left.
he told me it wasn't me. he told me it was him; as he 'ages' he's more conservative. [but he still voted for obama. so did his girlfriend.] he wants to fit in more. he wants to seem more normal. he wants a nice house, with nice furniture and nice cars and none of that different weird stuff. he watches 'dancing with the stars' and 'lost'.
a reader might wonder where all the love and passion is. it went away when he left; i'm still me, only less. and the less is the love that helped make me, me. that happens when you have a love that spans 31 years and then it disappears overnight. i don't see stars anymore and i feel lost.
i suppose he's not going to any more science fiction conventions.