I changed clothes and showered as quickly as possible and tried to slip silently into bed. I think I was successful at this as he didn't wake up, but then the real trouble began. For me to fall asleep requires alot of flipping from one side to another, adjusting the pillow between my knees, making sure the pillow under my head is on the cool side, and the list goes on. While I was trying to go through this process as quietly and cat like as possible, Jeremy sat bolt upright in bed like a zombie and said into the darkness: THAT IS IT, JILL, YOU HAVE CROSSED THE LINE! I blankly stared at him, puzzled and said: What line? He said: The line that goes down the middle of this bed, you have crossed it for the last time. I said: I don't see any line. To which he replied: That's because it's invisible. It goes directly down the center of this bed and once I am asleep, you are not to cross it with your turning and flipping and turning and all that nonsense.
From there it got pretty ugly and resulted in my commandeering all of the possessions that had come into the marriage with me, including the down comforter that was covering Jeremy. Needless to say, he wasn't too thrilled about that and a battle royale ensued. But dear readers, not to worry. We kissed and -ahem- made up quickly thereafter and the rest is humorous history.
I tell you that story because I have been thinking alot about invisible lines lately. Lines that should not be crossed in the precious moments of my life, lines that are sometimes hard to see and may look different to others than they do to me (even though they are invisible in the metaphorical sense). Since moving to D.C. I have met some of the most amazing people and my conversations with them have been very thought provoking. But even though I have asked several of these people for their permission to reprint here some portions of these conversations, I feel a certain taboo in doing so.
maybe it's because they are not of the light and fluffy variety which is my usual air on this website. Part of me wants to share with all of you the things that are going through my mind and coming from my mouth and the mouth of these intelligent and cultured people, but then there's the other part. And that part says, it was special, keep it in your heart. Keep it between you because someone may not understand and it may be read by the other person and even though it was reprinted with their permission, you may get it wrong. And then someone will get hurt. And that's just what I want to avoid above all.
So I have decided not to tell you about the scientist who is working with anthrax and the Israeli woman who talked about her time in the army and the Palestinian conflict and Hamas, and I won't tell you about the African refugees, but I will tell you that I cherish these moments. And for the very first time in my life I feel as though some invisible lines and walls in my mind have come down as stereotypes I didn't know I held have been dispelled and new friendships formed.
My question to you is this: Where do you draw the line on what you will and will not talk about in your blogs? Was it a conscious decision or were there moments you held down the delete key on impulse?