Trust

Some days you just don't get along with your significant other. Right? God I hope so because my dear husband and I are just not seeing eye to eye on anything today. From how we're looking at each other to how we're talking, it's all wrong. In the midst of it all, though, we can still hug and remember why we like each other, or at least that we do like each other even if we can't recall exactly why at that moment. The problem is that moment only lasts for as long as the hug lasts and then somebody says something with a mocking tone or glances sideways in disapproval and it starts all over again.

We were practically married from the moment we started dating. Neither of us had any sort of prerequisites for what was required before we were willing to commit. You know how some women won't move in until they have a ring or some guys won't get a ring until they've had sex? Whatever. We never really considered being so restrictive. If it felt fine and we trusted each other, then why have all these false, misguided, one size fits all rules?

A Rasta man I met in San Francisco taught me that. One of the perks from a company I used to work for was that we could fly anywhere for free. We had to fly on a cargo plane and it was cold and inconvenient, somewhat, since we didn't fly into the normal part of the airport and cab drivers didn't know where to drop you off in smaller cities, but it was free and awesome and unlimited. I took advantage of it when I had the chance and one time I flew to San Francisco. It was the only time I went anywhere alone but I couldn't find anyone to go with me and I really wanted to go. While I was there, I went to Haight/Ashbury. I know, I was a big fat stereotypical hippie girl with a job (William Blake said we all contradict ourselves sometimes) but in my defense, I was also young and trying to "find myself."

So I was walking down one side of the street and this black man (I point that out because I'm white and it's noteworthy - also, I don't want to make you assume that he was black because all Rastafarian's are black) with dreads "made eyes" at me. I just kept walking with my chest all out and proud til I got to the end of the street, crossed over to the other side and turned around.

He saw me as I passed by him again and this time said hello, in so many words. I smiled and said hello back and his step synced up with mine and we started talking. It began like it always does, him all complimentary; me all coy. But then we started talking. Talking and walking and every once in a while he'd break out into song. Loud, booming Dada. His voice echoed in the streets, as crowded as they were with people everywhere. We didn't go inside anywhere, he didn't have any more money than I did. It never even came up. We eventually sat in his car when we got tired of walking. Also, he wanted to share some music with me. We talked about religion for awhile but sadly I hardly remember the details. All I remember is his sincerity, I felt his honesty and I felt I could trust this complete stranger. Completely opposite from me, a world apart on most levels, but I believed he was telling me the truth.

Towards the end of the night, he asked if he could stay with me in my hotel room. He lived in Oakland and didn't want to drive all the way back so late. I'm not completely irrational so I did resist for some time. But after much conversation about how I should trust my gut and he believed I trusted him, I let him come up to my room.

I was in a double and told him he could sleep on the other bed. He started out there but again, he was persistent. I'm somewhat of a pushover and he kept promising that he just wanted to be near me. People. I believed him. I listened to my instincts and I trusted that he was a good person and just wanted to be close to someone for a night. I was right. He didn't do a thing to me. He didn't hurt me, he didn't rape me, he didn't scare me. Nothing. And in the morning, he went home. We shared each others information in case we ever thought we'd meet up again (we never did), and we went on with our lives feeling a little more secure (at least I did) about humanity.

So anyway, I'm a person who listens to her gut, not "standards" someone made up for someone else's situation.

I should be honest about moving in with D, though. I don't know if it was timing or sincere love at first sight (I'm inclined to think timing but on occasion I'm willing to be romantic) but just two weeks after we started dating we both happened to be looking for renewing our lease or finding a new place to live. He knew of a guy who was moving and he could just take over his lease but the apartment was too big for him to take alone and he couldn't afford the rent by himself. He was persistent and I caved pretty easily. We've been together ever since. That was 9 years ago this week. We hooked up at the Memphis in May Barbecue Fest and this year we didn't even go.