Apples and Oranges
Two men; one life
The sun is starting to come through the curtains and the alarm is going to be going off any minute now. I hear my phone beep with the telltale signal that I’ve gotten an email from a VIP contact. That means either Nat or James and James is right here next to me in bed, still asleep, with one hand resting on my naked hip. In other words, Nat has just sent me a note. What a nice way to start the day. I snuggle back more fully into James’ embrace knowing that in a few minutes I’ll get to enjoy reading what my other love, Nat, has to say. He’s an hour ahead of us in time-zones, and so is already at work while we are still here in bed.
We used to all live in the same time zone; we used to all spend time together, even though we lived far enough apart that it only happened every month or so and we had to meet half-way in a motel most of the time. Even though I’m still mostly asleep, I can’t help remembering Nat coming through the door and what that first kiss was always like after being apart. It was primal and hungry, but also tender and sweet. We’d stand there for a few minutes by the door, me sandwiched between them, and it was perhaps the closest I’ve ever gotten to heaven.
In that half-sleep state I can almost feel again what it’s like to lie between them, James’ actual hand on my hip and Nat’s imagined ones on my body, in my hair, his lips brushing mine. I don’t want the alarm to go off and ruin this reverie. I love them both, but not in the exact same way. They are both my partners, and they are also apples and oranges.
I stood up in a church and promised to love James for the rest of my life. We have a child together and a shared everyday existence that spans nearly 30 years, most of those in a legal commitment. He is my safe harbor. Nathaniel is far away at this juncture and we haven’t been together in person for over 2 years. We communicate mostly in writing because talking on the phone tends to overwhelm me and send me into tears. Nat is my anchor. The chain is long and the anchor is buried deep in the ocean floor, but he holds me steady in a way that is unique to him. Nathaniel is my twin flame.
Every love is different. In fact, every deep connection with anyone, platonic or not, is different. How beautiful that we can recognize this and allow for it? How wonderful that we don’t have to sacrifice one in order to experience the other. Nat has his own nesting partner and children, but we are an integral part of each other’s lives, despite that; despite the distance.
When the alarm finally goes off, I get up and read my message from Nat while I’m making coffee to take back to James, who is still in bed. “Nat says hi,” I tell him as I shrug off my robe and climb back under the covers.
“How is he doing,” James asks as he slides a hand onto my thigh? “Work is brutal,” I answer. “I get it,” says James, as he nuzzles my ear. “He really needs to get out of there.”
I write Nat a reply message and we drink our coffee. Then James and I make love. We start our day, together and separately. My extended family doesn’t look like most people’s but it works for me and for us all. It’s difficult at times, but it also brings me a lot of joy. Apples, oranges, the sweet, ripe peach that is Tamara (but that’s another story……) life is just one big fruit salad and I love fruit salad.
