As previously referred to, I refer to my ex as "babe" in standard conversation.
My time here has been unexpectedly extended, which is fine by me ... don't threaten me with nutrition, HVAC and indoor plumbing!
Somehow, saying "hey" feels sharper than "hey, babe."
I finally asked tonight if she was OK with that, as she has noticeably excised her use of the term. Pulling an "I love you" without part of me in her is just this side of impossible. She said she was fine with it, but for me, it's just muscle memory.
This is the trip where I finally realized I don't give a shit about a good sex life. Just being around her regulates me fine, and I can't complain about the free food.
We banter, we cross over into giving each other shit, and life proceeds apace.
I know very well why we got divorced a decade ago, but as we head into Day 5 of this visit, the practical reasons we've had the luxury of ignoring when I travel up here seem ... distant.
What concerns me most here is that I've experienced reality turning into fiction decades ago, and right now, sitting in her living room feels like reality, and my van feels like fiction.
Something is going to have to give, and soon.