"Listen to Music"

Some habits never get old.  For the past three hours, I've paced back and forth through my living room and kitchen listening to my iPod under headphones.  My parents will probably laugh when they read this remembering how I would do the exact same thing in my room for hours.   At some point in high school they bought me a c.d. player and we had these really nice headphones with a long cord that allowed me to pace the length of my room.  Almost every night I would close the door to my bedroom, put on my headphones, and turn my music onto the highest possible volume.  It's a wonder that my hearing is still okay.  Underneath those headphones, I escaped into a totally different world: my world where I could be anything I wanted and whomever I wanted.  

During college, it became a lot harder as pacing back and forth for hours singing, dancing, or talking silently to myself would have made any roommate think I was a tad bit loony.  Sure, I am but it wasn't something I was willing to share.  It was my music, my world, my time.  Instead, I took to the road.  My home was an hour's drive from my school and I returned home regularly enough that those drives became my escape.  Instead of headphones, I would just blare the music through my speakers drowning out the world around me and though I had to focus on the road, I found the movement, the changing of scenery very therapeutic.  During difficult times or semesters, I would sometimes drive beyond my house to the beach almost a full additional hour away just to prolong the escape.  

When Dave and I first moved in together, I wondered what I was going to do.  I mean, what the heck would he think?  Would he be curious?  Could I trust him to just give me the space and time without asking any questions?  This part of me was extremely, extremely personal and I sort of felt embarrassed by it.  The only people who knew about it or were around when I did were my parents and sister but I grew up with them.  These were the same people who witnessed far worse with the traditional growing pains and rebellions.  They didn't turn their backs on me during those times so I knew they could handle the hours I spent hidden in my room with the music so loud that it could be heard throughout the house despite it being played through headphones.  Never once did they lecture me about it.  They were always very understanding that need for privacy and alone time.  

Dave, however, was just my boyfriend.  He could turn his back on me.  Maybe he wouldn't understand.  Honestly, I don't even remember when I first talked to him about it or how it came up.  I know that I used to do after he went to bed or when he wasn't home but one day I just told/asked him.  When I mentioned that I wanted to go "listen to music" and I walked into the bedroom shutting the door, he never even questioned it.  After a while, if he needed to ask me something or he was ready for bed he would open the door just slightly and wave his hand or wait until I noticed.  He never once asked any questions and just understood immediately.  I didn't even have to explain.  It was one of those moments that I knew that he was not someone I wanted just as a boyfriend.  I wanted him to be family.  

I have tears falling down my cheeks right now and I don't have the slightest clue why.  I guess it feels good to be given this sort of understanding from my parents, sister, and husband.  Maybe, a friend or a roommate would have accepted me, as well but I never shared a space big enough.  It's love, I think.   Love and acceptance and perhaps that's why I'm crying.  I'm so grateful.  Not everyone is so lucky.  There are some people who don't get any space or privacy so I can't help but be entirely grateful for mine.  It's huge to me.  I don't know if this will me sense to anyone else but that's okay.  We all have our quirks that need to be understood.  I'm just so lucky that my new husband understands this particular one.