Did you all hear that noise? That tremendous crashing sound?
No. It wasn't the sound of Forth of July fireworks being launched from Boston to L.A.
It was the sound of my world's colliding together like so many cars in a demolition derby.
My husband met Patrick.
That sounds pretty dramatic, but it wasn't. Well, it wasn't to them anyway. To me it was one of the most stressful things that has ever happened to me.
Neither one of them can understand why, but I hope some of you can understand. It wasn't that I didn't think they would get along.
Well, okay. I did have some doubts. They come from two very different worlds, after all. But I did trust them both to try their best to get along.
It wasn't that I thought they would get along too well and leave me out.
Well, okay. They did gang up on me a little bit. Something about me never answering my phone. But neither one of them has a leg to stand on there so...
It was only that it isn't everyday that you introduce the man you've been living with to your husband.
Usually, when you have a best friend, you bring them into your relationship. You know. Like if I had met Patrick in high school...
Okay, I can't continue there. I would have RUN AWAY from Patrick and his crowd in high school.
But still. If Patrick was my friend and then I started dating my husband, it would have been different.
Or even if my husband and I met Patrick together and he became friends with both of us.
But I cannot change the fact that I met Patrick through the Internet. I can't change the fact that I had met up with Patrick in New York. I can't change the fact that Patrick visited while my husband was away. I can't change the fact that I spent almost a week at Patrick's house in Cleveland. And I certainly can't change the fact that Patrick and I have been living together since June.
But what I haven't mentioned, and what makes a huge difference, is that my husband suggested all of those meetings. He's the one who invited Patrick to stay at our house this summer.
The plain truth of the matter is that my husband has been treating Patrick like family without ever having met him.
That is an amazing testament to how much my husband loves and trusts me.
But it doesn't help ease my tension about my two favorite men meeting for the first time even one tiny iota.
Patrick works so much that they've barely even spent time together, but they are getting along fine.
It's me who they're driving crazy. Here's the thing:
Living with a man is hard. Living with TWO men is even harder.
But they have it easy. Because living with me is a piece of fucking cake.