Pgh Lesbian Correspondents

Settle down, it’ll all be clear
The trouble it might drag you down
If you get lost, you can always be found

20 years ago this very day, we loaded up the UHaul at my home in West Mifflin, drove to Manchester where we unloaded for what I thought would be forever. Friends and family had helped us prepare -packing, building a fence in the backyard, offering advice and suggestions, even dropping off housewarming gifts. Even the eldest nibling was there in utero.

July 16, 2005 was literally a new chapter for me. I had never lived with anyone except for family and roommates. I was 34. We had discussed how building a new life together at 34 and 42 would require some work – we both came as fully formed adults with lots of kitchenware, our own ways of doing everything, and a lot of baggage we had no idea would surface down the road. We bought and both read a book on this very issue, discussed all the topics we could think about.

We had been a couple for over two years. We talked and planned and prepared – we even did multiple test sleepovers with our combined pets.

We ate dinner with my parents at Olive Garden, picked up the dogs and my cat Simon, and then we went home.

We had spent countless evenings reading side by side on the little blue love seat with some procedural mystery show on the television. This was different. She read the paper. I had a magazine. Or maybe the other way around. We had cold beverages on coasters, the dogs were snoring softly on their new beds. It felt so familiar.

I might have been anxious it would implode, but I always hoped otherwise. It was terrifying, but also one of the best days. A day I hold closely tucked in my heart, wrapped around the fierce desire to build a family – not by parenting, but as two adults committing to all of the good and bad.

Twenty years later, we both still live in this house – in separate rooms with separate lives as lawyers and judges figure out the details. Four dogs and seven cats have left us brokenhearted when they crossed the rainbow bridge. We’ve had four vehicles, three employers, 364 Sunday issues of the NYT, three lawn guys, four sets of neighbors to the left, two to the right. We’ve cast votes in 40 elections. She kept ‘my number’ in her wallet for 11 years until a washing machine incident.

I loved the life we had built together even when it was hard and painful because it was ours, because it was worth the work and energy to deal with our own traumas to have this life, together. It was a fight I chose to get better, not just another fight raining down upon me.

But looking back? My mind settles on one thing – we had both come with hand-me-down dishes so we planned to pick our own set, new and shiny, probably Fiesta Ware. But it seemed impractical to spend that money when we had nearly four sets to use. Most predated microwaves, but then again so did we.

We never did buy a set of dishes for us. We had them on our wedding registry, but only received one single serving dish that we’ve never used.

Still our four sets were co-mingled until now when we have our own stacks. They aren’t exactly separated, but clearly not together. Is this a symbol, does it mean anything or does it just represent the new ways in which this is my home?

I have no idea what will happen next. What we had planned next was for her to retire, to sell the house for something more practical (fewer steps), and to have a next chapter. I can only speak for myself, but I looked forward to getting old – further away from the worst abuses and plenty of opportunity to keep healing and recovering. To have all of that with my chosen love filled me with hope.

But today, I’m not going to dwell on what could have been or what might yet come to be. I’m going to just remember a day when this house became my home.

I’m sitting in a railway station
Got a ticket for my destination, oh oh

On a tour of one-night stands
My suitcase and guitar in hand

And every stop is neatly planned for a poet and a one-man band
This wave (wave)
Is stringing us along
Along
Just know you’re not alone
‘Cause I’m gonna make this place your home

Everyday’s an endless stream
Of cigarettes and magazines, oh oh

And each town looks the same to me
The movies and the factories
And every stranger’s face I see
Reminds me that I long to be

The trouble it might drag you down
If you get lost, you can always be found

Just know you’re not alone (Know you’re not alone)
‘Cause I’m going to make this place your home

Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
Where my thought’s escaping
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
Where my music’s playing
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh (Oh, oh)

Where my love lies waiting
Silently for me

Settle down, it’ll all be clear
The trouble it might drag you down
If you get lost, you can always be found

Just know you’re not alone (Know you’re not alone)

‘Cause I’m gonna make this place your home

Oh oh oh oh!

Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh

Where my music’s playing

Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh

I’m gonna make, I’m gonna make, make this place your home

Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh (Know you’re not alone)

Where my music’s playing

Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh (Whoa oh)

I’m gonna make, I’m gonna make, make this place our home

Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh

Know you’re not alone

Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh (Oh)

Source: LyricFind