…from M and Rayne.

Strange things are happening in the Melen and Rayne household this holiday season. For the first time in two years, we’re really excited about the holidays. The fact that our finances are still in the toilet isn’t bothering us, and we’ve already pretty much planned out the rest of our year. And there’s a happiness that’s settled over the household, and maintains through any misunderstanding, heated debate, or outright disobedience. Contentment. Comfort.

We’ve begun starting each day with time spent cuddling in bed, which occasionally leads to sex, but not often. We spend most of the day working, and take frequent breaks to play with our animals, and each other. We make the most of the tedious stuff, like grocery shopping, or paying bills, by either stopping into a store we want to visit on the way, or shopping for food at Schenectady’s Winter Market, and enjoying the local bands, and shop fare, and wishing we could justify paying $10/lb for homemade fudge from the local dairy, and $4-5/bar for handmade, nice smelling soaps.

M’s actually got time off left, this year, because he has a boss who’s more than fair, and refuses to let him claim PTO (paid time off) for most of his time off since he’s salary and works so much over time. So he’s taking a few days this week, and a day around our eighth wedding anniversary, and a few days around Christmas. And I think that’s still going to leave him a day, at least, so he can call in sick and recover from our two-person, one-cat, one-bird, two-gerbil New Year’s Eve party.

Things are pretty amazing. So amazing, in fact, that I’m finally comfortable being happy. And for that, I am grateful.

Today, while I was massaging M’s back in effort to get him out of bed, he started talking about this man who was around a lot when he was growing up. He’s not related to anyone, but M’s baby brother is named after him. And from listening to the stories of his childhood, he’s probably the single positive male role model M had after his grandfather died. His mother was worse at choosing men than I am, if you can believe it. Or… than I was before I met M, anyway.

M talked about how “A” took him to Boston Harbor to go fishing, and brought him out to fancy dinners quite often. He said that A is pretty much the only reason he has any culture or class at all. His mother’s idea of teaching a child how to live was “Here. Do these workbooks.” He said he has very little tradition left in his life. He said on Halloween, he tries to remember someone dear to him that he’s lost to the next life. And on Thanksgiving, he tries to think of something that he’s thankful for. And this year, this man was who came to mind. He told me he was incredibly thankful for having known A.

This year, when I’m thinking of what I’m thankful for, it’s cliche, but at the forefront of my mind is M.

Sometimes, he can be rather selfish, but he’s given me so much in the eight years we’ve been together. He’s given me solid ground to stand on, and a safe place to be me, whoever that may be, without having to worry about losing his love and affection. I can trust him to be right behind me when I need him to be, if he’s not already in front of me clearing the path. He is my sounding board, my rock, my foundation. In all of my thirty years, I can count on one hand the number of people who’ve given that a try.

Instead of just getting pissed off when I’m obviously having trouble getting a handle on my “eccentricities”, M looks at why I’m acting the way I am, and tries to help me find my balance. When things stop making sense, he explains them to me. Repeatedly, if need be. He knows what I need, and he does his best to make sure I get it. He works just as hard at making this work, and keeping me happy, as I do. And it’s really nice to have that, even if it often takes him pointing it out for me to stop being a jackass and see it.

This Thanksgiving, when I raise my glass to what I’m thankful for, I’ll be toasting my owner. And I’ll tell him, if I can get up the courage to be that forthright, and open, just how much he means to me.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone, from M and me. We hope you, too, are spending your day with someone for whom you’re thankful.