Motley F***ing Crue!!!

As you may remember, a couple of weeks ago, T and I had the opportunity of a lifetime to see INXS and the Lovehammers live in Norfolk, VA. It was a cool experience, from the trip there to the hotel to the venue to the visceral experience of seeing 'the boys' live, probably one of the most memorable of my life. While we stood in line waiting for the doors to open that night, we kind of laughed about how that concert was the one I was really excited about but the next one was the one HE was really excited about.

Motley f***ing Crue this past weekend at the Richmond Coliseum. (yes, I do have to call them that, even if it's only inside my head.)

I was excited about this concert because 1) I don't go to many (any) concerts and 2) because it was a chance to see T very happy. However uncomfortable it made me to be in a huge crowd of rowdy drunk people, it was worth it to be able to glance sideways at him as he sang Home Sweet Home.

It was extra special to me because I was going to meet two of his friends, M & J, a couple he has known since before the divorce. This put me in a unique (and frightening) position, almost as bad as when I met his parents for the first time. Though I have never experienced this myself, it's customary for friends and family to be fiercely protective of someone who has gone through a rough divorce. Any subsequent dating is put up to much scrutiny so when, almost 2 years into this, I finally got a chance to meet some of his friends, I felt panic.

No really. I knew we were all going to the concert together, I had known that for months. But it didn't hit me until he mentioned dinner before the concert that this would be a double date. Suddenly, I felt nervous and self-conscious, painfully aware of how inadequate I am in many respects ... and then the panic set in. It's been a long time since my last panic attack but this was a solid 7.

Silly reaction, really, but I find myself in unchartered waters. I never double-dated while I was married. I hosted get togethers for his friends but the women were kept in the other room for the most part. The last time we got together as a couple with another couple, the x humiliated me during dinner. This incident escalated quickly into the "Big Fight" where he uttered the famous "I will kill you" ... just what I needed to convince a lawyer (and a judge apparently) that I needed protection.

Anywhooo ... I knew my fears were irrational but I couldn't help feel intimidated. I'm painfully shy when meeting in social situations. I don't 'do' small talk and these three friends have history together, a history before me. I know it's self-defeating but I find myself trying to compare myself to what made him happy before and I can't seem to get a gauge on it ... I don't know why I feel I need that, though, since what made him happy before ultimately made him miserable. What's important is what makes him happy now.

So we went by their house to meet up before dinner and I almost immediately felt at ease. I didn't talk much but that's normal. Dinner at Chili's was relaxed, even when J said that we acted like we had been married for years ... nothing makes T curl up in a ball like the M word. He did admit that we do have so much in common and that we have a great thing going, which is saying a lot. The friend loyalty came out when T excused himself and both M & J leaned in and told me, basically, that I'm good for him. According to them, he is happy now, happier than they have ever seen him. Deep inside, I was thrilled when they told me that. I hope I can take credit for a tiny bit of it.

The rest of the night, going to the venue, waiting in line, mocking the guys, and the whole concert experience, was phenomenal. I have more details but I'm in no shape to write about it yet. Sorry, I thought this was going to be a review but, as usual, I get lost in so much emotional minutae of the experience that I can't help but get overwhelmed by the scope of some of these posts.

I'm extremely introverted, with lengthy internal dialogues filling every moment, every blink, every breath. In my desire to understand myself better, to convey just what it's like to live in this extremely chaotic head of mine, I sometimes get lost. In trying to convey the experience of being in my head for one night, I end up writing freakin' War and Peace. Hah, One Flew over the Cuckoo's Nest, indeed.

Let's just say I'll save the review for another post and the post-concert reflection on the rest of the weekend experience (including church and being at the farm) for another day. Each one is hugely complex and sufficiently wrought with emotional quicksand ... and I'm kinda tired.