My wife and I have a curious relationship. We are best friends. We like to spend a lot of time together, and often go on dates, even after 15 years of marriage. We are not, however, codependent. Neither of us feel the urge to spend every waking minute in each other's company. Guilt trips about "alone time" are simply not on. That is not healthy living in our eyes.
She needs her time to write, and I need riding and photography time. That is just the way it is.
She is a member of the local group for the Society for Creative Anachronisms, the SCA, the international medieval reenactment society. They are a lot of fun, love history, and love dressing up and role playing. I get that. Sort of. What I cannot wrap my head around though is the dressing up in pseudo-medieval stuff and hanging out in a gymnasium. I tend to approach things with an "all in" approach and would not do this sort of thing unless it was completely authentic. I am a bit Sheldonesque that way.
I mention this because my wife and daughter are away for the weekend at an event for the SCA and I have the house to myself. No one is home but me and the cat and the rat. Periodically, she does this. I get a "bachelor" weekend, and she and the kid get some them time out playing with their friends. It is good and healthy. It gives us time to decompress. We miss each other, but also enjoy the alone time.
Normally, this means I can take a couple or few days riding my bicycles with no hard end on when I need to be home. While I don't mind long rides, and often take them, I do mind when I get carried away and take too long. Balance here is the key.
Her weekends away also free me up for a lot of time with the camera.
But this weekend is strange.
It is full of the missing, and the alone is not wanted.
It's too snowy for bike rides and the light's all muddy. This is the point at which I embrace hot chocolate and anticipation.
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