she'll be my mirror

Last night my (new) girlfriend laughed about how much she was looking forward to our first clothes-shopping trip. Meaning clothes for me, I assumed. She'd mentioned it a few times already. She's not one of those girlfriends that tries to change you - I know that's a mouthful - but she has mentioned that most of my clothes are a bit too big for me and though she's not pushing it, we both know that a shopping trip is inevitable. I do favor oversized clothing, when I can find them. I feel like they somehow hides my hugeness though I've been told a few times that they just makes me look even huger than I am.
I've had a bad knee for about a month now (approximately the same period I've had a girlfriend) and I feel like I've gained a little weight so I'm not particularly interested in buying clothes right now. On the other hand, I'm kind of happy that my new girlfriend - let's call her "Miss Music" or "M" for short - is a thrift store fan and so at least our first shopping trip will be relatively inexpensive.
I started to write a blog entry about her after the first night we confessed our mutual attraction but I never got back to it. I guess there are two reasons for this. One, I don't exactly know how to write about her without betraying confidences or sharing details she wouldn't want shared. This has never been a problem when writing about the women who've rejected me, not because I didn't care about their feelings (though often I didn't) but because they were relatively unidentifiable. But Miss Music is my girlfriend and may be for a long time and even if only one person who knows me, reads this, it could be embarrassing if I'm not sufficiently secretive. And anyone who knows me, knows that's not my strong suit.
I guess the second reason I haven't posted anything in a month is because, on some level, now that I have a girlfriend, I don't really need a blog. I still have things I need to express. Write down. But there's less of it. And the truth is, the only things I really need to express right now are the things that I'd be afraid to say to her. Which I'm not going to share here, for obvious reasons.
I have bad thoughts. I call them "demons" but we all know they're my thoughts, not some satanic visitation. If it wasn't so frightening, it would just be really really interesting.
I've heard of people in relationships, fucking things up because they're afraid of being hurt and they want to push their partner away before their partner can hurt them. Like a preemptive breakup. Perhaps they don't want to break up but if it's going to happen, they want to be the one to do it.
I've never done that and that's not the situation here.
Almost all my relationships before this were with unavailable women. When they weren't leaving me, they were about to leave me.
Miss M isn't going anywhere. She thinks we can make it. And I think she's right. I'd be crazy to let her go. She's pretty well everything I thought I needed and never thought I'd have.
But of course, that's a bit of a challenge for a guy like me.
In my last film, Lovable, I said something to the effect that all these years I've wanted a wife, a family, someone to share my life with, I've obviously wanted something else too. Something that got in the way of this other thing I wanted. I wasn't sure what I was saying when I said it, or when we put it in the film. But I knew there was some truth to it.
Now I think I understand it a bit more clearly, which is why I say these bad thoughts are so interesting.
I guess I knew that if my solitary life were ever seriously challenged, it might be hard to give it up; that the old "be careful what you wish for" scenario would rear its ugly head. I just had no idea how devious and insistent the demons of solitude would be.
I've never felt particularly critical of my girlfriends. Or at least I never looked for things to disapprove of or wondered if someday those things would get to me. And there was probably a simple reason for this. I was too busy winning them back. Daily, weekly, monthly. Panicking because they had that look in their eyes, celebrating because I'd fought for and received a temporary reprieve.
So far that isn't happening with Miss Music and I think I can say that it's not going to. It's not in her character. If she left, she'd be gone. There'd be no winning her back. But as long as she's there, she's there. Or maybe I should say "here" instead. She's here.
There's no drama.
But that's the good news and the bad news. Drama was what I knew. Drama was how I knew I was in love. My friends say "You must be too old for drama" but I'm not sure they're right.
And so that's my challenge. To stay interested without the drama. To stay interested because of all the good things I can have if I give up on the drama. All the things I said I wanted.
It's a battle but so far I think I'm winning.
So anyway, I was downstairs a little while ago, going through my underwear drawer, making a pile of things that no longer fit me, if they ever did. And I thought about the inevitable clothes shopping trip and imagined Miss Music and I standing in the racks, holding T-shirts and sweaters up against my body. Then going to the changeroom and coming out and modelling for her. Grumbling the whole time of course.
One of the reasons I don't like shopping is because it's hard to find things that fit me. Things I would wear anyway. It's really frustrating to see clothes I like, only to find that they don't make it in my size. The other reason I don't like shopping is because I don't like mirrors. I know that sounds strange coming from someone who uses mirrors in his films but in my films, it's just my face I see. And I've more or less made my peace with my face. But that's not the case for my body.
I pretty well never look in the mirror when I go clothes shopping. I'm sure that comes as no surprise to many. If I like a piece of clothing and it fits me, I buy it. If I look in the mirror to see how I look in it, that's just going to ruin things. I hate the way I look in the mirror and I'm not going to be able to judge how this or that piece of clothing looks on me, when all I'm thinking about is how fat I am.
So there I was thinking about this and the Velvet Underground song, "I'll be your mirror", came into my head. If I go shopping with Miss Music, I won't have to look in the mirror. She'll be my mirror.
And a sweeter, more loving mirror you couldn't find.