"Man Cave" should be abolished from the lexicon

I've been thinking about Man Caves lately. I used to have one in a previous relationship, it held all of my personal "manly" items like my video games, my stereo, records, books, assorted Star Wars collectibles, posters, Guinness neon sign, and so on. It truly was a "man cave", being set up in the basement in a room of about 15 x 7...it felt "cramped". I have no pictures of my old cave, as I tend to destroy pictures when relationships end, but you get the idea...small, cramped, relegated.

Moving in with someone creates an entirely new dynamic in any relationship. Back then, when my man cave was created, I was simply not allowed to have my stuff on display upstairs as it "didn't go with the decor" and created "chaos". I can understand this concept if you were simply having a new roommate move in, you can simply ask that person to keep their things in their room. However, if you are in a committed relationship and you are asking the other person to move in with you, you should be willing to give up "your" space and make it an "our" space anywhere in the house.

I remember the feeling that my things weren't nice enough, or that our styles didn't mesh to the point where I felt like my space was actually a studio apartment and I was a roommate. Strong relationships are not born out of this model.

I've read Mars and Venus, I've been to the seminars...and it's all a bunch of bullshit. I do not need to "go to my cave" like the esteemed John Gray states in his many speeches and books. Caves are for cavemen, at the end of the day I want to come home and be in a "shared" space with my significant other. Cavemen grunted, and hunted, and expected dinner to be on the table, to smoke their cigars while their woman rubbed their feet. This man wants a teammate, a confidant, a partner in crime whom he shares all aspects of life emotional, physical, mental, and on and on.

Over the past 5 months I have been growing in a committed relationship with Hether. Our styles are so intertwined, yet individual, and I love how they go together. At the beginning of a gradual move into the house I purchased in 2008, she is the first and last person I will ever invite into my home to make it ours.

My house is her house, my space is her space. My things are her things, and I think it is helpful that we have similar tastes in design. It's fun to swap links on Craigslist of furniture or other household items that we like to get the opinion of the other person. It's a true collaboration that spills over into other aspects of our relationship, or other parts spill into it...it's an awesome feeling though to walk in the house and see our belongings combined.

Men caves should be abolished. Men caves are for hiding manly things that should be displayed proudly next to girlie things. When you combine the two it creates an atmosphere that exudes the strength in the relationship that built the environment. I believe that anyone who walked through our front door would feel it instantly when they see the classic arcade game next to the incense burner and the antique porcelain bunny collection that is proudly on display over the record albums and 80s stereo they play on.

Men caves are antiquated, immasculating, and this man will never have one again.

I am homeless, come and take me, to the reach of your rattling drum...

I was recently thinking, on a morning drive into work, about fate. It's a word I haven't ever really believed in, or acknowledged. Fate, that my life is predestined, planned out, destined for some sort of outcome no matter my choices in life. If I believed in this, why should I weigh options, or give one ounce of thought to an outcome when according to fate it makes no difference what I choose? Maybe, the choices I make direct my fate based upon the things I have learned from my choices, and that is ultimately what fate is?

When I saw her picture for the first time. It was like an answer to a burning question I had in me for decades. I held off on contacting her through the page, out of some irrational fear that I wasn't worthy of such beauty. Her words she had written struck to the marrow, and pierced my brain, and she called herself "Poorly drawn", I couldn't see it.

We emailed for a full week, non stop. We talked on the phone. We set a time to meet. Then she disappeared.

A week later I received an email from a friend to go to Sound Unseen, and I noticed a name in the email chain: Hether. I hovered the cursor over the name feeling a rush of energy come over me, and it was her. Without a thought I started composing an email, and the wheel was back in motion.

I've thought about this moment quite a bit lately. Is it fate that we reconnected through a mutual friend? Would we have ultimately met through him anyway? would the timing have been right had we met some other way? Was I destined to meet her regardless of the way it happened, and in what time frame? How many other universes are out there, and have I met her in every one of them, only in different time frames and circumstances?

We met at Grumpy's on October 6th. She walked in to the bar the very moment Alexi Casilla singled home the winning run and the Twins beat the Tigers to go to the playoffs. The very moment. I saw her in real life for the first time to cheers from the people in the bar. We talked for hours, kissed to end the night, and fate had become a word in my vocabulary. I can't explain it any other way.

Being with Hether makes all of my past successes and failures understandable.