Whenever I'm very afraid of something, I know that the only way to put my fears to rest is to understand that which I fear. This seems to be because I'm so afraid of being swallowed up by that which I don't comprehend.
If I can't see something, it increases my fear, hence my fear of living in the dark of the forest where I can hear all kinds of wild things, but have no way to see them. This also explains my general fear of all dark places. As long as something happens where I and others can see it, I believe I can conquer my fears with understanding a thing. Sometimes, I'm rather foolish in my willingness to place myself dead center in the middle of my fears to have a close-up vantage point from which to study them.
Richard, on the other hand, is very comfortable with the dark, and with wild four-legged animals that roam in the night. What he fears is the two-legged variety of wild thing, especially when they travel in loud packs. He and I have long had an unspoken agreement that he would protect me from things that go bump in the night, as long as I negotiated the crowds of fiery folks to make friends. He has now expressed an interest in my being more cautious about crowds of two-legged wild things.
I absolutely love the sights and sounds of the city, while he is partial to the peace of our place in the woods. What's a couple to do?
At this point, we're negotiating a compromise, driving back and forth from one home to the other. While it is expensive and rather frustrating, living from pillar to post, out of the back of our van, it beats living separate lives. While Richard wiles away his hours at the World War II Museum, helping refurbish a PT boat, I can "solve the problems of the world" with my soul mates, sisters, and various other family and friends. He also is the hero to the widows and orphans as he fixes minor household problems for them.
I always wanted us to spend our retirement years in a bus with cooking utensils and Richard's tool chest, with a sign on the side saying, "Will Work for Room and Board." (or "Will Work for a Bed and Some Breakfast") Maybe my dream is finally coming true. We may need to get our RV back on the road.