November 10, 2006

hold me to it

When I started out – this whole living abroad thing – I had big dreams of globe-hopping.  Prague for a couple years, then maybe Asia, South America… Africa…

And now I’m dating a man who adores his country, and even more touching yet frightening, adores his family.  And won’t leave them.  We haven’t had any in-depth conversations about it yet, but it’s rather clear that he would never leave the country, to live.  At least not while his parents are still alive.  Plus, he’s in the military with 13 more years to go, so that kinda ties him down, too.

I never wanted children, either.  I was dead-set against them and would get near violently angry when someone told me I’d change my mind.  I hate that.  Don’t say that to women, it’s rude.

And now, I’m immensely attracted to the same man who won’t live outside CZ, but who I knew, almost immediately, that he very much wants children and a family, and if it were possible, my uterus would jump right out of my body and hug him for the possibilities.

I’m very touchy, right now, about what I want and what I give up or sacrifice.  I’m lurking in this gray zone trying to make decisions about what’s important to me, about what I would regret in the future – regrets about doing as much as not doing.

Granted, it’s relatively early in this new relationship – but it’s been moving very quickly, and we’re both intense people when it comes to love, and I can certainly see it going in the direction of domestication.  The thing is, I know how to have fun and keep things light.  But I’m no longer willing to get serious with someone unless there’s a point to it – and I’ve chosen to get serious with SB.  We’re both on that track.

I’ve been thinking about my world adventures.  Will I regret, if 5 years from now, I have a family but I’m trapped living in CZ forever?  Or for another 5 years?  Will I spend my life pining for Africa and all the lives I didn’t touch?  Will resentment sprout for having had to grow roots in the first and only place I’ve been?

Is this even a choice I have to make?  Do I choose, right now, to give it all up, or am I headstrong enough to not have to worry about it?  Then again, I live in CZ.  All the world is only a flight away.

Is the risk worth it?  Is there even a risk?  Is this even a choice I have to make?

I know that what I want most is a home.  A real home.  Physical/literal and metaphorical.  I want to unpack my bags and start buying furniture, and making curtains, and knitting throw rugs.  I want to buy a home espresso machine.  And a pasta maker.  And fancy kitchen gadets.  I want to do this without worrying I’ll have to pack it back up in a hurry and flee to my next temporary flat.

Eh.  I’m a modern woman.  I can make it all work.

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