The Circle Grows Bigger

So,
The Mister and I lay awake in bed for 3 hours last night, talking. One of those its-only-3am-and-I’m-not-used-to-sleeping-before-5 nights.

I said, making a circle with my left index finger and thumb (like when you say Excellent), this is me.
And this, I said, making a loop with my right hand and covering the first loop almost completely, is you.

Now if I was to let a third person into my life (in a big way), I say, he would have to either take you and me and all our baggage with him

Or, you would have to move out enough to let that new person in.

So how does that work? Do we want that? I don't think I do. I like us.

He looked at my hands folded in two interlocking circles and said
The circle grows bigger.

The circle grows bigger.

What a simple and liberating thought that seemed to me. That we can grow and expand to include more people in our lives. I had forgotten that for so long! In this complete and absorbing (and totally fulfiling) relationship that we have developed, it stopped occurring to me that there is room for other people.

So this is my reminder: the circle grows bigger. There is always space for more people in our lives. So smile at the passenger next to you and ask the grocer how his day was. Make the circle grow.

What with Max and The Sage getting their snog fix and the possibility of my ex becoming my current bf (more on that coming soon) again, love is clearly in the air. So here's what moved me or made me think this week.

A much needed, purely biological look at the warm fuzzy thing we call love. Gives you some perspective.

Love Unlovable People: this here in one of my favourite posts- ever. Written by Patti Digh (whose blog, by the way you must visit. there's something funny, something moving, something interesting, something provocative for everyone. Take your brain and a warm heart with you), it's a refreshingly warm perspective on love and on people.

Unlikely Love: this post is not for everyone. It is certainly for me. A life long denim love affair means that a denim loving post is guarenteed to make its way into any post about love.

P.S. Movign house. Very busy. Waking up with dreams of misplaced shoes. Will update soon.

The Mister

The day begins innocently enough on the 5.40 am Cross Country service from Newcastle to Glasgow Central. I'm on my way from Birmingham to Glasgow and my ex (and one of my bestest friends- I know, that doesn't happen often) joins me at Newcastle Central. We'll just call him The Mister.

The train leaves a bustling station silenced my sleepiness; there's a competitive rush for the 'Quiet' coach.

The first hour goes in gossiping excitedly between large gulps of extra strong cappuccino. Soon, England's manicured lawns turn into the vast wilderness of Scotland's farms. A breath of fresh air (although we don't actually get a real breath of Scotland's untamed fresh air until we get to Edinburgh Waverly- which is hardly untamed!).

We reflect briefly on the flimsy, foot-high fences that surround some properties- fences, we decide, are an act of truth. They're not really going to (physically, by virtue of their strength or size) stop people from trespassing, but they rely on the truth that people will not breach boundaries that belong to other people (even though they can).

Speaking of boundaries, The Mister and I have none. After 4 years of full blown romance and a (pretty sudden) move back to being best friends, there are no boundaries that separate us. And so the inevitable question (stemming largely from the fact that we've talked about it off and on for awhile and neither of us has dated anyone else seriously for the last year- since we split up): what do you think of getting back together? Half laughing, we talk about the potential magnificence and disasters might occur.

Outside, the sun's coming up, slowly flooding the sky in a bright pink oranginess. What better time for a new beginning than in a train at sunrise pulling into Central Station, at the start of a weekend break
I tell him
Lets give it another day.