You would think finding space in a big two bedroom house is easy. There are rooms upon rooms. A front and back porch. Our bedroom.
Since being sick with whatever it is my wife has, she does the usual decision thing for us. She decides we must move. So I think in October or November we will.
The problem with the house is space. In Khmer culture family often moves in and we have family here with us. It has become too much for us. Not a matter of asking them to leave which alin would never do. More of wanting the space to be smaller. With room for us. This eliminates people staying in a nicer way.
The house has had good and bad. It just sometimes feels like too much. It also has seemed to cause sleep and happiness issues with us. I think we have argued more here. Can a house cause that? Well yeah. I think so.
My friend R told me it’s hard enough bringing two cultures together so different as Khmer and American. Add in whether a house can cause an effect by its simple nature and perhaps there’s a perfect storm. I guess the simpler thing is it never became home. We hoped it would. That we could enjoy more space. Have some family around. It became something opposite to me. Something I would sometimes hope to not have. And R is right. My wife though is not difficult or different. If we both made decisions about life we would clash. I just let her decide and tell me how it will be.
So other question is when. Alin can find us a place like that. Riding her moto around will give us the luxury of choice. She will do the bargaining and agreement. Then we will go. My bet is next month.
What it really has meant since she told me at 5am is some discussion about getting an apartment or smaller house. She knows where I like to live. I like the river and cafes. I don’t like living out in the country here. I want stores and markets. Good roads. So we will go. Find space.
Just a little less. I sit here at 630am monday writing this in a kitchen with lots of space. It dawns on me it’s not enough and too much. I bemoaned before here only finding solitude in our room. It made me think of what that is to me. It is not being by myself and someone else is 10 feet away talking in Khmer. Or hearing music from the next room. Or basically anyone being around directly or indirectly. When I want to be alone I don’t want cramped solitude if that makes sense. Walking becomes the only way to me to find it. My house is simply too busy. Too many people going. Checking. Asking.
Are you happy? How was dinner? Do you need something?
On and on. I’m sorry. I don’t need the constant checking. Or the cramped solitude. I just need alin. She knows me now. Like the times I want solitude and other times when I just wish to be left alone.
I never said, ‘I want to be alone.’ I only said, ‘I want to be left alone.’ There is all the difference.
Source: Greta Garbo
I find myself wanting both. To be alone at times and wanting to be left alone. As I have not so gracefully aged I find wanting social contacts has ebbed. This house promotes the contacts. The smiles. The desire to ask those questions above. And it’s fine. Until it’s not.
The blog has turned increasingly personal. So sue me.
