In Shadows

. . . while I wax romantic . . . This was written last night on paper as I didn't want to forget it.

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I'm at work as I write this, having spent an evening manning coatcheck (on a warm night, no less, so you can imagine the extent of my toils.) Plenty of hours to kill and I've just finished reading Tipping the Velvet by Sarah Waters for the third time.

I love this book. It calls to me. It was made into a movie in England and recently showed (censored to the max) on BBC America. Which is why I thought to pick it up for another go 'round.

As it is with books you love, a point comes when you know it as well as your own life. It breathes, it becomes a dear and comfortable friend. And you wonder. What exactly is the draw?

The main character, from whose point of view the tale unfolds, goes through tumultuous times. Not during the era of her life, which is the late 1800s of London, England. The upheavals are within herself, her identity, heart. Now that I dwell on the fictional life of Nancy Aistley, I can't help but draw comparisons to my own.

I think the biggest impact for me is the ending. Nancy's first love, her best love, her most passionate love, the woman who broke her heart six years prior - this woman appears and asks her to return. Now Nancy has been reeling from this broken heart for all this time, making one bad decision after another. She's always been of the opinion that her heart could only be mended by this woman, has always dreamed of this very thing happening. She's struck by a revelation, an epiphany.

Her heart has already been mended and belongs to the woman she's been living with the past year or more.

That would be me, as well.

My first love, my most passionate love broke my heart. It wasn't the same as the book; there are parallels but not specifics, it's the emotions that call to me, not the facts. She didn't do what the fictional woman did and our problems were a mutual thing. To top it off, I left her rather than the other way around. Oh, but I mourned that loss. Years came and went, made all the more difficult by my stupid decisions, decisions made as I reeled from the relationship.

And one day, I was in the same position as Nancy. I had the chance. I could go back, return to the arms of a woman who I thought understood me far better than the woman I was with, regardless of my original disaffection for the way things had gone. My broken heart would finally heal and it could sing with the angels once again.

I turned it down. I burned those bridges so badly there's nothing but charcoal stumps in the water.

Because I realized my heart was on the mend already, aided by the lover I was with.

I can't say I was as smart as Nancy, though. I didn't even know at the time precisely why I turned away from what I had idealized over time as a grand passion. I think this is the very reason this book calls to me. For it's finally put into words what I knew to be true all those years ago when I had my chance and tossed it aside.

My lover, my friend, my wife. She accepts me unconditionally, warts and all. People say we make a cute couple (and we both grimace and turn up our noses at one another - "Cute?! Blech!") A dear friend of mine has said she's my true love. Another has said that I glow in her presence and she sparkles in mine.

The pair of us are stronger together than we've ever been apart and I know for a fact neither of us have been in other relationships that said the same. We've been through fifteen years of hell and heaven, feast and famine. I love her as I love myself for she taught me there was something of myself to love. And I've been fortunate enough to teach her the same lessons she's taught me.

So, that is the draw to this book, Tipping the Velvet, and this character, Nancy Aistley. As usual, I've been rather dense - fifteen years ago I made the decision to stay with my then girlfriend / future wife. And it's taken me fifteen of those years to figure it out.

But she loves me anyway. She's healed my heart, my mind, and my soul. I would not be who I am today without her influence no matter how much she tries to deny the responsibility.

I love you, Anna. Until the end of time and beyond.

Whew…I feel better! LOL!