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Tuesday, 15 November 2016

A Glowing Bride - Scottish Steampunk with an Avatar Twist

The more that happens in my life worth writing about, the less time I have to write about it. I know I've been totally quiet on all the political stuff, lately, and frankly it's because I'm disgusted with the whole thing. Instead I focused on personal stuff, which has kind of been necessary. You see, aside from getting involved with a new man last spring, we've got huge plans for ourselves and our relationship. Nothing other people aren't doing, but enough that it keeps us really busy. I've already talked about the fertility thing, and how we're going to a clinic. (Which, by the way, is going to cost us a fortune. Around $10,000 to $15,000 to harvest my eggs in a single batch. So, that's on hold until we have that kind of money. Apparently it's at least as expensive to do it in Canada, as it is in the US, if not more so.)

So, just to be different, my then-boyfriend-now-fiancé and I proposed to one another. We both got engagement rings, too. His is so big he'll have to put it on his right hand when we get to the 'I do' part, and I may have to do the same since I've got short fingers. Two rings on the same finger looks weird on me. Still I love my ring so much. It was supposed to be my wedding ring, but it got here before the one that's supposed to be my engagement ring, so we said to hell with it. We each have amethyst and silver in one of our rings, and rose gold and emerald in the other. I happen to be allergic to nickel, so I can't wear white or yellow gold, but I'm fine with rose gold and pure metals. The emeralds have to do with the fact that we happened to be only a few blocks apart, down Emerald Street in Hamilton, when we met. Yet we had no idea we were even in the same country when we really started talking. Of course, it turned out we'd spoken long before then, because we're part of the same political groups on Facebook.

Well, now the big stuff to deal with is a wedding day, hopefully on our anniversary, but the sad fact remains that we both have other entanglements to get out of, and my fiancé happens to be embroiled in something pretty nasty. I won't discuss that publicly, since it wouldn't be respectful of other people's privacy, but suffice it to say it prevents us setting a firm date.

However, we do have plans. Big plans. We already think we know where we're doing it. They're heritage buildings that they rent out for arts and culture events. It's really inexpensive to rent the place for almost two weeks, so we're going to have something like an art festival in the days surrounding the wedding. I was originally thinking of doing a writing seminar only, but then I realized we could really make the whole thing a lot of fun for everyone. I mean, if people come in from the US and different parts of Canada, I wanted it to be worth it for them. When my fiancé said we should have a ceremony, he was mostly thinking of us writing our own vows, and didn't realize that for me to have people at the wedding, they would have to be people from way out of town. I know very few local people. Four maybe, and that's including my ex and his girlfriend.

From the possibility of a writing seminar, it expanded into various crafts and such. I was thinking a Victorian photo shoot would go along well with a portion of the theme of our wedding, since Steampunk is very much of the Victorian flavour. I also thought it would be good to do proper photo shoots for authors, who will need good headshots for their writing careers. I'll probably hire a make-up artist and hair-stylist to make it all look great. I'll have to have discussions with the various professionals to find out what they'll charge for a day, or for individuals, especially since it will be a group deal, and then any member of the public can pay for either the seminar by itself, or the seminar with the photo shoot. I thought a mug-painting day would be good, too, where wedding guests can do two mugs - one for us as their wedding gift (instead of them trying to figure out what to give us, which is silly at our ages), and one for themselves. A painting class, flower arranging perhaps, where guests can do two arrangements if they like (one for the wedding, and one for themselves).

My dress is going to be very unique, though. I'll say that much. I'm planning to have parts of it glow. My fiancé and I were/are planning to make our own top hats, but I'm debating on an elven circlet or something. At the moment I don't have the time to deal with any of it, but I'm letting the ideas simmer. We'll have LED lights and electroluminescent stuff. An arbour will likely be present, because who doesn't want to get married under an archway??

We're going to have a blast, whatever we do, and so I'll be posting all about it here as we do it. You'll get pictures, of course. And speaking of which, here's our engagement ring shot!
Our Engagement
You can also partially see the lovely lightning bolt-shaped scar I have from my attempt to imitate Harry Potter. Okay, so I tripped and fell into a plate of eggs, the plate broke and severed a nerve, and then I had to have surgery on it to repair the nerve - yay me! Do I do good work or what?

I'm definitely happy to be having all this fun with wedding stuff, despite being too busy dealing with a dead laptop (a story for another time involving juice, that I'm just not ready to talk about yet), and trying to get a book written, while trying to get the podcast show back on track. The thing is, what really makes me happy is being so thoroughly loved, and being with someone I love just as thoroughly. We complement one another in so many ways. I'm ridiculously, madly, head-over-heels in love with him, and I have no doubt he feels exactly the same. It took until we hit our mid-life to find one another, but we finally did. None of this other stuff would matter without that, and I'm not at all stressed about dealing with that stuff either. It's not stressful when you know it's just something you'll have a blast with.

So many people go through life looking for the wrong things. They want someone to rescue them, or someone who has money. In truth, what we need is to be with someone where it wouldn't matter if we were living on the street. I know very well that I could sit snuggled up next to him on a sidewalk, and wouldn't even care. I don't have to have money or a house. I don't need cars. I didn't have to have fancy jewelry, though it's nice we were able to give one other rings that we both liked and picked out for ourselves. I just needed to know I was accepted for exactly who I am, and that we could sit down and talk to one another for hours on end. The chemistry doesn't hurt either! I'm just so blissfully content, and I have a hard time explaining how very right everything feels now.

Oh, and the Scottish part of all this? My baby wears a kilt in his family tartan...and he wears it very well! ;)

Saturday, 23 July 2016

An Even Bigger Change of Life - Time to Confess

I've been plotting and scheming lately, and it's time to fess up to what I'm doing. Partly because I'm bursting to talk about it, but also because I think it might be helpful to someone if I document this journey I've decided to undertake. I should really say that it's a journey we've decided to undertake, because it involves my boyfriend, too.

The plotting and scheming I refer to has nothing to do with writing, though I still do that of course. After all, I have a trilogy to finish. This is far more personal, however, and I'm sure many will judge me for my decision. Yet, everyone close to me has been cheering us on.

My boyfriend and I have decided to attempt to have a child - well, at least one, possibly two, depending on how things work out. Having a child at our ages (I'm 45 and he's 51) becomes complicated just by itself. On my end there's an additional hiccup. I've had my tubes tied since my early twenties. That combined with the age of my eggs makes things difficult, to say the least. There's little point in getting my tubes untied and trying to conceive by the usual means. We certainly have no problem practicing the maneuvers, but the odds of conception are practically nil. It would be a waste of time and money, most likely, and surgery is always a risk.

This leaves us with IVF, or in vitro fertilization. My eggs will need to be harvested, fertilized, and then implanted at the appropriate moment. From my understanding, this will cost us quite a few thousands of dollars. Are we still going to go through with it? Hell, yeah! For that matter, we're already spending a fair chunk of change just getting ready for it, and we haven't even had our first fertility appointment yet.

Let me explain.

The older eggs get, the less healthy they are. However, until recently doctors believed that we were stuck with the eggs we were born with, and there was nothing we could do to improve on them. Or, if we allowed our egg health to decline there wasn't anything we could do to get it back. Now it's looking like there's a lot we can do to make things better, which includes certain vitamins and nutrients, as well as switching to a fully organic diet. Our food bill skyrocketed this month, and it's probably going to cost me a couple hundred dollars a month for vitamins and such, in addition to buying a water cooler so I can drink spring water rather than tap water with all that chlorine and fluoride in it. I've cut out caffeine, alcohol, and sugar, too. Plus I'm getting out and walking a fair bit.

You're probably wondering if all these changes are making me crazy, and they're really not. I guess it's true what they say. If you want something badly enough, you'll do what you have to do to get it. I used to think of myself as a person who couldn't achieve my goals, and most of that had to do with my writing (and the fact that I'd never published a book). Now I realize I'm perfectly capable of attaining my dreams, seeing as I've got two books published and I know there are more on the way.

How does my boyfriend feel about all of this? Actually, he's even looking forward to potentially crazy mood swings when I have to start injecting myself all the damn time. I was warning him about what I'd heard of the process, and he said he couldn't wait. I thought he was being sarcastic, but apparently he was serious and couldn't wait for the whole thing to happen. Huh. Well, colour me surprised. Honestly I've never known a man who was so into the idea of having kids - with me at any rate.

So far we've gone to my family doctor, and she's referred us to her favourite fertility clinic. They called a few days ago and booked us in for the end of August. It's good timing, seeing as I only started trying to improve my egg health around the end of June, and apparently your egg cycle needs at least 90 days of healthy living, though the full egg-production cycle is 150 days, I believe. By the time we've both been tested for our potential fertility, and they can get me started on the constant injections, it should be a good 90 days of proper nutrition and supplementation.

I haven't yet started the prenatal vitamins, which they recommend as part of the preconception process now, but I'll start that later this week. I just want to keep my folic acid down a bit. They've been doing studies that indicate too much folic acid may be part of what causes autism (through Johns-Hopkins, so I trust the source, though it's not yet peer-reviewed). I'm going to take only half the prenatal vitamins they recommend, and also choose the lowest level of folic acid I can find. I'll still be supplementing with it, in order to prevent spina bifida and other issues, but I don't want to overdo it.

One issue I currently have is the pain medication I'm on for my hips. I've cut back, partly because I had a shot of something called Visco put directly into my left hip joint. I still have to have the other hip done, but my pain has been lowered enough that I can cut back on Gabapentin and Tylenol 3s. The opiates are the worst thing, because they can kill your ovulation, so I'm down to 1.5 to 2 pills a day of those. Gabapentin is mostly an issue once you're pregnant, to the best of my knowledge, though I'm going to do more research on that. I was taking 4 Tylenol 3s a day, so I've cut it to just under a half (on average).

I've lost weight since my boyfriend and I got together, which helps with my hip pain, of course, and allows me to be even more active. Eating nothing but healthy food is helping me lose additional weight. Being overweight affects ovulation as well, and since the plan is for hyper-ovulation so they can extract a bunch of eggs at once, I really need to make sure I'm ovulating.

I'm also avoiding things called xenoestrogens. They're in damn near everything, including hand lotion, nail polish, shampoo, body wash, lipstick, etc. And the kicker is that you absorb 100% of what goes on your skin, as opposed to only about 10% of any xenoestrogens you might ingest by mouth. Your organs actually filter out 80% to 90% of what you might get orally, but they can't do anything to filter out what your skin absorbs.

What do they do that's so bad? Well, they act like estrogen, and too much estrogen makes you infertile. It can cause things like micropenis in boys - I'm assuming it's when women are exposed to it during pregnancy, since the penis is already formed when the baby comes out, but it could also impact the eggs in a way that causes it. I'm not certain of my facts there, but I'd just as soon avoid having to deal with that issue with my potential son. Then you get things like breast growth in men (who use products that have xenoestrogens in them), and lowered testosterone.

In order for women to be fertile, and for proper implantation to occur as well, it's progesterone that they need. Too much estrogen is pretty bad. I'm actually taking hormone supplements to regulate estrogen levels, and that's correcting any issues I've had with my periods, too. I never really noticed it because my periods were never that bad, but I have less cramping and other symptoms usually synonymous with PMS. Thankfully I've never been particularly moody with PMS either, though I certainly get plenty moody when some guy asks me if I'm PMS-ing just because he's done something to piss me off.

Speaking of periods, though, I've switched to organic cotton tampons, seeing as the other ones are made with cotton that's been sprayed with oodles of pesticides. It never even occurred to me before that it would be an issue, but apparently cotton is one of the most heavily sprayed crops, and it's not a good idea to have that stuff anywhere near your nethers. Those tissues are highly absorbent, and pesticides can also act as xenoestrogens. Yippee.

One thing I haven't done is switch my wardrobe to safe fabrics. I figure any cotton stuff I buy to wear will, or has been, washed umpteen zillion times. Nylons and polyesters aren't good in general, though, so I think I'll work on at least using natural fabrics where anything bad can be washed out. I tried hunting down the organic cotton underwear, but there was a sizing chart issue and so I had no idea what size to order. Plus my weight loss has changed my underwear size.

Thankfully I didn't have a lot of bad habits that needed to be broken. I don't smoke and I don't take illicit drugs - not even pot for pain simply because it doesn't work for me, and it apparently has an effect on fertility, particularly in women. I drank a bit of alcohol once every couple of years until pretty recently. When my boyfriend and I got together we would have a beer or two when we went out, which was pretty frequent at first, but I started to go back to my old habit of not drinking even before I started on this fertility kick.

My diet was the worst thing. Too much sugar and too many preservatives. Granted, I wasn't going for fast food at all. The worst I had there was Subway. Now everything has changed. I drink black, decaf, organic coffee. I drink lots more water, and I also drink herbal tea sweetened with organic honey (or whatever the pure, unpasteurized stuff is called). I'm rather shocked at how well I'm doing. I'm taking Maca Root capsules, which are supposed to be amazing for fertility, but I still have to add a few other supplements, like CoQ10, the aforementioned prenatal vitamins, and Royal Jelly.

I probably sound like a nut with all this, but I'm looking at very bleak odds here. I have to produce not only a high number of eggs, but ones that are as healthy as possible. I also have to make sure my uterus is healthy. Good times. Luckily I'm not the type that gets stressed out easily, because that can be a huge factor in fertility issues. My boyfriend and I have both procreated before, so if we're infertile it'll be a recent development rather than a lifelong issue, so making healthy choices could make all the difference.

My boyfriend is also pretty familiar with this whole thing, seeing as he was a sperm donor before his son was born. He was extremely fertile in that respect, so I've got very high hopes that this will work out. So long as there is a batch of healthy eggs (or embryos) to be used, a woman can carry a successful pregnancy well after menopause. According to my doctor at my last physical, I'm nowhere near menopause. I guess the average age in Canada is around 51 or 52, and I've shown no signs of perimenopause. Everything is as regular as can be.

You might wonder, if I wanted more children, why I had my tubes tied - and especially at such a young age (I had just turned 22). Well, there are a few reasons. First, my doctor at the time recommended it. I couldn't take the pill, and an IUD made me bleed for two and a half months. The only other options for birth control back then were extremely inconvenient for anyone in a monogamous relationship. I'd had a total of three miscarriages by then (one before my daughter was born and two after), and I didn't want to keep going through that. It turned out to have something to do with the boyfriend I had at the time, rather than my own physiology, so I wasn't happy that I'd 'sterilized' myself for no good reason. In retrospect I think the doctor was tired of seeing the plethora of young women getting knocked up so they could go on welfare or 'trap' some young man into taking care of them. I could be wrong, but it's the impression I have.

Strangely, the people I thought who would be so against us doing this, have been very supportive and encouraging. We've been told that we're exactly the kind of people who should be having children, so I feel pretty good about that. Even my adult daughter seems pretty happy and excited about it. We were out shopping one day, and she suggested we go look at baby stuff. Apparently any children my boyfriend and I have now will be spoiled rotten, because my daughter was looking at all these outfits and saying she was going to buy this, that, or the other thing for 'the kid.'

I'm no better in my level of excitement or prematurity. I've already looked at cribs and stuff. We've discussed names we like, and pretty much all the decisions parents have to make when a baby is born, like breast feeding, circumcision, religion, vaccinations, you name it. We got all the deal-breakers out of the way (or non-starters as my boyfriend calls them), seeing as there wasn't much point spending thousands of dollars to do this if we couldn't agree on some of the more important issues. We've also discussed what to do if there are congenital issues. In one way it's lucky we're going through IVF, because they can actually check if an embryo is healthy before implantation. That doesn't rule out all issues, of course, so we may be faced with tough choices later, but the fact is he's already told me he would never interfere in my right to choose. Of course, I can't imagine being with a man who would.

I did tell him any kids we have would have his last name. I have no interest in carrying on my own last name, with the exception of continuing to use it myself because it's who I am now (and my name has been changed far too many times - something I wrote about in a previous post). He thinks kids should have their father's last name, but not for the reasons you would think. He believes it engenders a deeper sense of responsibility in the father, if his children carry his last name - and some men need that reminder. He doesn't. I already know what kind of father he is, even under less than ideal circumstances, so I have no fears there. If I did I wouldn't have even considered this.

How much is this going to cost? No idea at this point. In the US an egg harvesting cycle would cost about $10,000, and I'm okay with that. Canada's a bit different, however. At least some portions of it will be covered by our healthcare, such as our initial appointment. In fact, Ontario Healthcare actually covers fertility treatments now, but there's a 3-year waiting list and we can't afford to wait that long at our age, so we'll be paying for anything that isn't generally covered by our regular insurance. As we go through all this I'll keep track of it and talk about it more when I know what's covered and what's not.

What will we do if my eggs (or his sperm) don't work out? Well, nothing. Call me selfish or picky, but the whole point to this is for us to have our own child - together. There are donor eggs and donor sperm out there, but neither of us is interested in that at this point, and I doubt we will be. There's always the possibility of adoption if this doesn't work out, but we haven't discussed that yet. I don't even know if they allow people our age to adopt.

Yes, we know how old we'll be when our child(ren) reaches adulthood. And, yes, we're both looking after our health to make sure we're alive as our kids grow. The fact is, no one knows whether or not they're going to survive to see their children grow, and we'll both be well under the average ages when men and women in Canada die. We're not dealing with alcoholism, drug addiction, or other risky behaviours that will shorten our lifespans.

The fact is, I've been waiting my whole life to meet the man I wanted to have more children with. The one where I could imagine him being a full partner and truly sharing the whole experience, as well as the responsibilities. Now I have, and I'm not letting even a small chance of experiencing that slip from my grasp.

Friday, 15 July 2016

A Change of Life, Just Not That One

I'll admit that I had become completely cynical about my chances of finding the right person to share my life with. I was considering getting back into the dating world, but I was also planning to wait until after the third book in my trilogy was published. After all, I didn't feel like I had the time to spend on vetting all the candidates one tends to find on online dating sites. So, I hadn't bothered to create a profile anywhere.

Funnily enough it turned out that I'd already met the man of my dreams, and it was more than a year ago now. We had political interests in common, so we were both members of a certain Facebook group. We're also both actual members of the Green Party, so that was a weird kind of synchronicity, among other things. With all our commonalities, however, we were more than a little surprised to find out we not only lived in the same city, but we were only a few blocks apart. Go figure.

Just when you think life isn't going to give you the one thing you've always looked really hard for, it can suddenly seem like it's throwing you a surprise party with all the perfect gifts.

When I was awake and aware I never felt lonely, but I knew that some part of me was. I used to have these dreams where I would be held by a specific man, who made me feel truly loved. I'd wake up feeling so ridiculously content, and I would close my eyes at different points throughout the day to hold onto that feeling, picturing it in my mind. Nearly four months ago I finally discovered what that felt like in real life. All previous relationships paled in comparison, and I realized that if I'd truly know what this felt like, I would never have settled for what I had before. I would have known the real deal.

Nobody is perfect, but sometimes you find someone who is absolutely perfect for who you are. They fit with you somehow. All the things that you're insecure about, and that you've been told are fatal flaws, suddenly they're things that are cherished by another person. Don't get me wrong - we weren't all sunshine and roses about who we were, pretending to be something different. We were both almost brutally honest about ourselves. I was pretty enthusiastic about telling him I swore like a drunken sailor, cracked every joint in my body, and the only thing domestic about my habits is the fact that I'm potty-trained.

For his part, when we started private messaging, he bluntly asked me if I was single, and said he needed to know because he was certainly happy to be friends with me, but he would be sitting there wondering the whole time if I was available. It made me smile, I can tell ya. And it was a first for me. After all, we met on Facebook rather than a dating site. On a dating site you're assuming the person you're talking to is single (though there are plenty who are trolling for a side piece, too). I'd never had a guy have the courage to be so blunt about his interest in me on there. Of course, he was pretty blunt about a lot of other things, too, like wanting to talk to me, see me, kiss me, you name it. And he had the confidence and courage to follow through on it. He still does, and it's something I find endlessly fascinating and attractive about him. Especially since a lot of guys seem pretty intimidated by me.

Of course, explosive chemistry helps. I'm not giving details, but I will say that time stands still when he kisses me. There's a Zen-like calm that comes over me when we're together. I've only been truly mad at him once, and from what I can tell I was being stupid. However, all he had to do was touch me and I was lost (as was the anger, though I tried to fight that). There's a magic in it, and I've never felt it before. Any time in the past when I've been mad at a guy, they've been mad at me, too, and so the last thing they were interested in was making me feel better. Yet, my boyfriend has got to be the most selfless person I've ever known. He can (and does) feel empathy even toward a person who should be his most bitter enemy. I've seen examples of it time and time again. Honestly, we need more people like him in the world. He just truly cares about people. He talks to them on the street, homeless or otherwise, he buys strange kids a meal, he stops to help people who have been involved in car accidents, he's politically involved, and he stands up for women online when men start acting like misogynistic jerks.

He's also the best father I've ever seen. He's been involved in his child's life from the moment of birth, and even against adversity he's made sure he remained a major part of his child's life. It makes me wish I was ten years younger so I could easily have a couple of kids with him. Not that it's impossible even now, of course, but the odds are against it.

We've both had our share of bad luck and bad choices when it came to past relationships, so you would think we'd be a lot more leery of moving forward with things, but we were pretty much living together within a week or two of starting to date. People thought we didn't know each other, even though we did. In truth I've never known anyone so well in my life. My own experiences kept my eyes open, and not just for suspicious behaviour, but also for the evidence that backed up everything I was being told. Fate stepped in, over and over, to show me that he was everything he said he was. My one instance of anger with him was all the more stupid because I've been given constant proof of his character. Yeah, I felt like an idiot...and well I should.

Have we talked about taking things to the next level? Well, in an oblique sort of way. Neither of us are against the idea of getting married. I just have one caveat there. It's gotta be a 'hell, yeah' kind of thing on his part. I mean, it would definitely be a 'hell, yeah' for me, but I won't do it if he doesn't feel like that, too. After all, I was told in a previous relationship that I'd dragged the guy into it (despite him being the one to propose). It was a month after the wedding, and that was the end of our marriage in that very moment. For me, anyway. I never felt the same way after that, even though I tried to keep going. My heart just wasn't in it anymore. I couldn't even bring myself to care enough to fight with him after that. I became rigidly logical and cold-hearted whenever he tried to fight with me. It was painful enough for me then, but if I had to go through that with my current guy I don't know if I'd survive that kind of heartbreak. He isn't the kind of guy who would say something like that, but without the 'hell, yeah' part of the deal, he might as well be feeling it.

Still, he feels more like a husband to me than any man from my past, with or without the marriage certificate. When I talk about him, or even think about him, I have to actively stop myself from calling him that. I'd have to say it's because we work so well together in everything we do. You know those things you try to do with someone that usually lead to fighting? Like hanging wallpaper, fixing things, etc. Well, we can do those things and just be happy to be together. We have fun with it, because we always have fun together, and we genuinely like each other. We enjoy talking about pretty much anything - though he's admittedly a bit attention-deficit, so I find myself repeating things, but then I have to ask people to do the same with my hearing being so crappy.

Probably the funniest part of all of this is how we started out being so logical about love. We both agreed that it took about two years to really get to know someone, and until then you couldn't truly say you loved them. Then I told him on our first date that he was going to fall madly in love with me. Go figure. Of course, my barometer for knowing if I love someone is a pretty morbid one. I try to imagine how I would feel if they died, and whether or not it would devastate me. Within the week I told him he'd smashed my barometer. I couldn't imagine my life without him.

So, you see, there's a reason I've gotten so far behind on blog posts and other writing projects. I don't blame him, of course. He's perfectly willing to give me the space I need to get my writing done. I just haven't been able to tear myself away from him. A first for me. I've always managed to work and do what was necessary before. Thankfully I'd already published book two of my trilogy when we started getting all crazy in love. I had a bit of breathing space. Or should I be calling it 'breathless' space, because that's how he leaves me.

It took me until I was 44 years old to find the man that was right for me. I've made a lot of mistakes in the past, and not just with my choices. I've also made mistakes with my behaviour within those choices. I know very well that I had my share of the blame to shoulder, and I needed to learn from all that in order to be where I am right now. It's tempting to wish we could have met ten or twenty years ago, where we could have saved ourselves the heartache we've both been through, but that might have been a disaster for us. We needed to be who we are right now, in order for things to work as well as they do. I needed a certain maturation. Our experiences form us, and there's no regretting those experiences when they brought us to this point. We each have offspring we might never have had, and we would never have wanted to miss out on them.

I guess the point is this. No matter how crappy things can seem, they can change in a heartbeat. I learned that lesson a long time ago, and it's something I keep trying to share with people who are going through hard times. I almost gave up on finding someone I could be happy with. I'd thought about dating, but I had no faith I'd find anyone who would put up with my foibles, much less someone I was willing to tolerate. And I certainly held no hope I'd find the exact person who was everything I ever needed and wanted. He feels the same. I can only hope he keeps feeling that way, and hope is no longer in short supply for me. Of course, it helped that my ferrets were all over him like he was wearing a meat suit, and he likes doing dishes.

The best part? I feel more free with him than I ever felt when I was single.