Most of the time I post mainly about positives and happiness. This post has both happy and not so much at the same time kind of like what I tell my new hires at the Data Center "sometimes it's guts, glory and Uninteruptible Power Supplies and sometimes it's light bulbs and toilets."
My wife hates the crosdressing but loves me. I am having a hard time sorting this in my head. It feels to me like the religious tenet of "love the sinner, hate the sin," or what most churches offer for alomst all LGBT i.e. "It's okay to be, but do not do..." or it's equivalent in modern times of "don't hate the player, hate the game." My trouble is that the dresses and other assorted shit satisfy something in me I can't adequately explain beyond scratching an itch I can't otherwise reach and the lack of my ability to make the liquid heat of the hate stop at the dress and not soak through to the me underneath it.
It isn't that it's a secret that it's not her thing and she isn't wrong for not being able to accept it, she didn't sign on for this any more than I did not knowing how deep it runs. On one of the days we'd agreed on for me to be me and after we moved to separate rooms of the house I spent half an hour and went through at least 6 different dresses trying to find one that would be the least offensive until I realized that the best I was ever going to be able to achieve was "least offensive." What a soul crushing kick to the core of my existence that was. I imagine its similar to the despair she feels when she's forgotten it's my day, she wants to go out for dinner and I haven't realized she's forgotten it is until I have the audacity to put on a skirt or a dress not realizing she's completely forgotten it's my "day."
We don't want to break up 20+ years of workng together in a partnership and the success we've achieved together and financially divorce seems like shared poverty rather than the life we've built together. I like the ability to buy new dresses when I feel like it and she likes the ability to work becasue she wants to instead of because it's the only way she's going to eat. That said, she'll never be a fan and I don't see it hurting less when the visual of me shuts her down and I get the one word answers and shrugs intended to spare my feelings or save her the headache of telling me one more time that where we are sucks.
It feels to me to be an expression of something as completely inherent and important as the part of me that loves music, the range of a bass guitar and the need to breathe to sustain myself. About 3 minutes in to the second allegro of the 3rd Brandenburg Concerto whether it's played by a traditional orchestra, the bluegrass magic of Rob Moose and the Punch Brothers or my ultimate favorite and first foray into electronic classical music and the fact that boy and girl weren't as cemented and abritrary as I'd been told through Wendy Carlos and the Moog synthesizer there is music that touches at least a similar spot to the one that today's "Lemony Thicket" dress (If I were both quality and flambuoyant enough to be a drag queen that's who I'd be) along with the black laced edge, cherries and white lingerie set under it does.
Musically you can get to this space through Apollo 100's "Beethoven's 9" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OFZumxLjOkE at the 1:37 minute mark or should you happen to find yourself in San Diego's Balboa Park at 2:00 PM on a Sunday walking up to the outdoor pipe organ as the first low note of the Fugue from Toccatta and Fugue in D minor hits your chest cavity as thoroughly as it does your ears you'll understand how I feel. I haven't found a happier noise than than the mix of modern and classic in Mozart and Drums/Bass here https://youtu.be/mU8amh06Mms?t=180 The entire song is worth a listen but the ending capture what I'm trying to convey.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rcZDI63yO1c
