A year and 3 months after the Wedding

Wow. Millhouse...who knew this little cat (16 pound cat) would be such a key player in the relationship between me and David. His pee habits certainly get attention! Well, he's stopped. For now. We've had the wedding, we moved into a new apartment, he spitefully acted up, we ignored the bad behavior, and moved things around until... 1. We have a safe couch (well, futon?) that we can sit in without cat pee. 2. Some genius part of me figured out getting rid of the food mat and putting the bowls in the bathroom where if he ever did pee it'd be easy to clean up ... so of course he stopped spite acting out since there's no impact 3. I'm spending more time with him at home so he's getting more attention than he even wants (so no need to pee) Who did I marry? Oh yes, David. Not Millhouse. (and notice, no mention of Lisa, the older female Black cat. 'nuf said.) David and I are fine. The wedding was amazing. I mean, truly wonderful. His family -- I'm still stunned a. that they completely embrace him as gay -- seems to not even be a thing, b. that they are so unguardedly loving and supportive of him even when he can be a pill -- honestly I'd never get away with some of the things he says or doesn't in that gracious Queen of England courtesy do, but he skips the courtesies and goes head to head with and the love comes pouring back. dunno...beyond my figuring out. But his family was there in over 50's numbers, and then some friends. My crew was much smaller. And dare I say a distillation of essential figures in my life, less the parents, who I think this was too much for them. They claimed the cold of February 2018, but one could surmise that this was too much on the side of Sodom and Gomorrah and they are still testing whether God strikes or not. I think they're hedging their bets. That said we've had warm times with them at their home. And my brother and his wife love us and showed up full heartedly and supportive in many many ways -- too many ways to count that make me humble and feel that our family was fully represented. And my cousin from my mother's side and my 16 year old godson. As they say, those who were meant to be at our wedding, were there. And it was enough. And we were full. And the honeymoon in Key West was all dreams come true and truly smart of hubby for us to do a Honeyfund so we enjoyed the time on our wedding guests' dime. All good. Love builds and grows in the commitment we made in front of that amazing 80+ group of people who gathered to celebrate our joining in partnership for life. We picked well -- tough, hardened, but soft underbelly people who see in each other the tender beneath the hard. We are a rugged twosome -- he did triathlons with me. I've discovered a right hip that has no cartilage because I've run so hard, pushed so relentlessly to build a body that makes me look younger than the almost 50 years old that I am. He's no slouch, but maybe built of sterner stuff? Either way, I'm searching for the fountain of youth since there's no way I can push my body as hard anymore. Gasp, maybe alter the diet? Grrr all the way on that. I love chocolate too much. So this phase includes identifying the right doctors for all that ails, and the career stuff is daunting since though I have found (I hope) my life partner, I've yet to find the right team of co-workers, a tribe, to run with when it comes to earning and being of service in the way that fills the coffers to pay the bills. I left the last gig a couple weeks ago, because it was torture to go in each day and serve in a much less impactful way than I can and want to give, (and get paid to do.) I want to sort out how after 4 years of a relationship sex -- how it works, for gay men, to keep it exciting and new. We seem to be built (gay men, all men with libido) for the hunt. It seems, for me anyway, at my age, it's less about performance and more about intimacy and connection. How to negotiate differences in libido? What is this thing going around re: open relationships? What does that even mean? It's all wildly confusing and I'm trying to be at ease and ride the wave, while wanting to preserve that perfect relationship image that I think I need to survive. Plagues me to be in the present and relax. Swimming is a good spiritual teacher, because the more I fight the water, the harder I work to enjoy being in the water (which essentially I do love the ocean -- and respect its majesty). I need to respect the majesty of life, sexuality, relationships and love. There's no way for me to control another man's body, sexuality, hunger, and still love. There's no way to control my own. I remember being fearful for Obama -- I wanted him to have no flaws so that the opponents of his ascendancy to leadership of the Black people and the Americans would be ok, without a fly in the ointment. I certainly wanted to ensure he had no extramarital affairs. And with Pete, I'm so afraid to hear him smeared or Chasten (what a name) -- for going to the Black party -- or having [gasp] orgies. Because to lead and to be held as examples we have to be perfect. That concept bears investigation. Let him without sin cast the first stone. That is him without self inflicted nonsense. I get no credit for that -- it's been passed down from generations before. I'll conclude with this (much more to come), I'm eternally, yes, eternally, grateful for David (and Millhouse...and Lisa). And, for my brother, my parents, David's family (happy Mothers' Day to both our mothers in happiness they are both alive to see their gay sons happy). I am grateful. It seems so many other gay brothers (and sisters and non-binary -- another note another time), find the love idea and the being partnered thing fraught. And for good reason I'd say. And somehow, David and I have done this. We've made the decision to hang our fates together, as fearful as I am of germs. We've woven a Jewish and Christian, Black and White, financially careful and financially/career reckless portfolio together. We've merged his rigor in organized household items with my penchant to leave everything everywhere and found a graceful peace (I flexed...hard.) We've figured out how to eat together when I want to wash everything 5,000 times and sweep every day to remove all the cat hairs, when he's quite content with letting Lisa drink out of his water glass and sip after. Ugh. We are making it work, in fact, it's working us. We're becoming more partner compatible every day we sort out what (if we'd known before we sealed the deal) might have seemed impossible. I think this is the one. And the work then, begins.