What a life. What a mess. It seems sort of calm these days actually, but you and I know that it’s just the calm before the storm.
It’s just that I’m sick and tired of trying. Sick and tired of begging for your love. Sort of like telling you that it’s ok if you don’t love me, because I don’t love you either anyway. Bullshit of course. We both know that I’m crying my eyes out, nonstop.
I’m trying to study. As usual, it’s no use. My mind wanders off. I have so many problems; not doing well on a stupid exam is the least of them. My heart is broken. My life is ending. My happiness is being taken away. Who needs to worry over exams? I have you to treat me bad. I have to find a way to deal with your new ways. I have to make peace with you being cold and heartless. I don’t have to think about exams to give myself a hard time!
You call me early afternoon. Like the past few days, you’re all laughter and jokes. Pretending to be happy? Playing cool? Showing me that you don’t care? I don’t really know anymore. So I try to talk to you. To tell you how I feel. Do you ever listen?
I try to tell you how hard it is to believe that you care, that you love me, that you still want to spend your stupid otherwise wasted time with me. You just get upset. You always do. You have no ear for bitter truths. We say goodbye the usual way. You’re your cold self. I’m my tearful one! I feel the whole situation is getting out of my hands. I have to do something to change it. I don’t really like to play on your pity. Doesn’t seem possible to play on your heart since you don’t seem to have one anymore. Why not play the game your way? I’m going to be the cool one who’s ok with anything at all. I’m going to be the one who doesn’t need anything anymore. The one who doesn’t care. Let’s see if that can touch you!
So as I sit there to cry – which happens to be all I do these days apparently- I send you an e-mail:
New policy: I'm gonna take everything you say at face value. I'm gonna believe in you. You say you still feel the same way for me, I buy it. You say you miss me too, I buy it. You say you do whatever you can to be with me, I buy it.
See, the thing is, doubting you is the most painful, exhausting thing of all. I don't wanna have to do it anymore. I want to believe you. It makes sense. How can I be so madly in love with someone who doesn't even care??? You have to love me back, as passionately...
I love you. I know you love me. I'm going to try to calm down. Let you take your time. Wait for you to decide how you wanna be with me. If you choose not to, it'll be your decision. You have every right to...
Peace...
P.S: I need to talk to you, so much! I miss you. I miss seeing you, sitting with you, talking to you, touching you. I miss being close to you. Now that I think of it, it's obvious that you miss me too. I still remember how excited you were about my haircut the other day. That is, before you totally forgot it! Now that I mentioned it, I'm going to wear my hair in a tight ponytail tomorrow. You wanna see how it looks, you COME to me! Understanding your situation and your limitations is one thing, not needing you and not missing you and not wanting to be around you is a different one. I might try to the first; the second is out of the question.
One more thing: these days, if I'm sad or upset, if I don't study, if I cry a lot, it's not you, not your fault. I'm feeling so bad because I understand that I have to give up. I cry a lot because I don't know how long it can go on. I'm not angry at you or sad because of you. I'm mad at the world, at life. I'm sad FOR us. But I'm happy that I have you. I'm grateful that you're around. I appreciate all that you do for US. My happiest moments are when you call. My worst are those when I just sit there, counting the seconds, waiting for your call. Not enough happy moments, huh? I love you. I love it that you're with me. I love it that I'm yours. Stick around some more. You still wanna read The Book, right?
In a few hours you obviously read it. I receive your text-message: “Hi Stormy. Now that I know you believe me: I MISS YOU MORE THAN YOU CAN IMAGINE. I WISH I COULD MAKE YOU FEEL GOOD ABOUT YOURSELF. I MISS YOU.”
I’m lying on the couch trying to study when I read it. It’s no surprise that tears run down my face. I write back: “Just try to talk to me. I know you miss me. I miss you too. I’m dying without you. I’m so tired of crying all the time, being without you every moment. Talk to me please…”
You call in a few minutes, like I know you will. You’re still making jokes, but there’s no mistaking the undertone of worry and concern in your voice. Now I really know that you still care. But I need to hear it from you:
- I have to know what’s going on. If you tell me that you don’t care anymore, I can accept it. But I can’t not know!
Silence.
- You don’t care anymore. Do you?
More silence. Except that I can hear the sound of your breath. Sounds like you’re about to cry. I don’t want you to. I hate it when I make you cry. Not because I’m the traditional woman who believes men shouldn’t cry. Simply because I know it’s not easy for you. I know you must be in real pain to do it. And I don’t want to be the cause of that pain. You finally manage to tell me how stupid and crazy I am to think that way:
- You don’t understand. I’m a fucking married man. I can’t even sit and cry. I have people to answer to. I want the whole world to know that we’re together. I’m so proud of it. But I can’t! I have to consider the situation. I can’t do anything!!!
My heart goes out to you. I know how much pain you’re in right now. And at the same time, I want to kill you for being stupid you, for wanting to stay in that messed-up marriage, for not daring to change your life. I’m as much of a victim of this marriage as you are.
We sort of make up. You are pissed at me for not intending to show you my haircut tomorrow. You threaten to get physical to have your way! I know you will do it! And I love you for it. But, it won’t be too good for you to be seen wrestling with me at college just to see my haircut! I promise to take my shower and do my hair before showing up. I want to look good for you anyways.
When we say goodbye I’m feeling a bit calmer. I guess I just miss you. Let me have some quality time with you, and I won’t complain about anything anymore!
I then sit down to watch one of my favorite men ever on Opra. Anderson Cooper, a journalist from CNN is on the show tonight. He’s the image of middle-age charm and sex-appeal! Silver-grey very short hair, bluest eyes ever, high cheeks, tall and lean. And to top it all, he’s a great human being. I’m kind of drooling over him when I hear the key turn in the lock!
My God!
I’ve never felt uglier! Never with you. I’m in what I normally sleep in. My hair is a mess. The notes and books and all the reading material that I’ve been ignoring all day are lying around on the desk, chairs, and PC. And I’m in your arms. And the world is beautiful. And life is a blessing. And there’s no pain anymore.
You keep telling me how good my hair looks. How good I look. I feel the blood rush to my face. I love it when you compliment me. You know how much I love to look good for you.
You don’t stay more than five minutes. But I’m happy with that too. It’s the best five minutes. As you kiss me goodbye I reach out. But I stop half way. I know you have to go. I know you’d die to stay. Why make it more difficult for you? Tonight, for once, I’m content with this unexpected five-minute visit. I decide to let you go in peace!
Now I’m surfing the web. What I see, it makes me feel so bad, and yet so great. How do you do this to me all the time:
Love the new policy. Gives me peace to know that you are making peace with me. I won't doubt you ever again. Be strong. Be good. Be my chica.
Stop accusing me of not caring, of not wanting, of not trying.... Please.
I have not forgotten about your hair.
I don't have any plans on my mind to hurt you.
I do not want to forget about you.
I do want to be around as much as I can.
I want you to be happy. I want you to write your book.
I have not forgotten about your book.
I want you to LIVE.
I want you to love life.
I'm sorry if I can't be all the things you want me to be. It's not fair to ask you for things when I'm not giving any in return. I keep on asking for understanding and yet I myself don't understand you. I am sorry for everything. I am sorry.
You shouldn’t be. I’m not. I am happy. I still have you. Can’t you see that? The days of wanting to die each and every minute, days of constant misery and never-ending pain, days of not being with you anymore, my bad days are yet to come…
It’s just that I’m sick and tired of trying. Sick and tired of begging for your love. Sort of like telling you that it’s ok if you don’t love me, because I don’t love you either anyway. Bullshit of course. We both know that I’m crying my eyes out, nonstop.
I’m trying to study. As usual, it’s no use. My mind wanders off. I have so many problems; not doing well on a stupid exam is the least of them. My heart is broken. My life is ending. My happiness is being taken away. Who needs to worry over exams? I have you to treat me bad. I have to find a way to deal with your new ways. I have to make peace with you being cold and heartless. I don’t have to think about exams to give myself a hard time!
You call me early afternoon. Like the past few days, you’re all laughter and jokes. Pretending to be happy? Playing cool? Showing me that you don’t care? I don’t really know anymore. So I try to talk to you. To tell you how I feel. Do you ever listen?
I try to tell you how hard it is to believe that you care, that you love me, that you still want to spend your stupid otherwise wasted time with me. You just get upset. You always do. You have no ear for bitter truths. We say goodbye the usual way. You’re your cold self. I’m my tearful one! I feel the whole situation is getting out of my hands. I have to do something to change it. I don’t really like to play on your pity. Doesn’t seem possible to play on your heart since you don’t seem to have one anymore. Why not play the game your way? I’m going to be the cool one who’s ok with anything at all. I’m going to be the one who doesn’t need anything anymore. The one who doesn’t care. Let’s see if that can touch you!
So as I sit there to cry – which happens to be all I do these days apparently- I send you an e-mail:
New policy: I'm gonna take everything you say at face value. I'm gonna believe in you. You say you still feel the same way for me, I buy it. You say you miss me too, I buy it. You say you do whatever you can to be with me, I buy it.
See, the thing is, doubting you is the most painful, exhausting thing of all. I don't wanna have to do it anymore. I want to believe you. It makes sense. How can I be so madly in love with someone who doesn't even care??? You have to love me back, as passionately...
I love you. I know you love me. I'm going to try to calm down. Let you take your time. Wait for you to decide how you wanna be with me. If you choose not to, it'll be your decision. You have every right to...
Peace...
P.S: I need to talk to you, so much! I miss you. I miss seeing you, sitting with you, talking to you, touching you. I miss being close to you. Now that I think of it, it's obvious that you miss me too. I still remember how excited you were about my haircut the other day. That is, before you totally forgot it! Now that I mentioned it, I'm going to wear my hair in a tight ponytail tomorrow. You wanna see how it looks, you COME to me! Understanding your situation and your limitations is one thing, not needing you and not missing you and not wanting to be around you is a different one. I might try to the first; the second is out of the question.
One more thing: these days, if I'm sad or upset, if I don't study, if I cry a lot, it's not you, not your fault. I'm feeling so bad because I understand that I have to give up. I cry a lot because I don't know how long it can go on. I'm not angry at you or sad because of you. I'm mad at the world, at life. I'm sad FOR us. But I'm happy that I have you. I'm grateful that you're around. I appreciate all that you do for US. My happiest moments are when you call. My worst are those when I just sit there, counting the seconds, waiting for your call. Not enough happy moments, huh? I love you. I love it that you're with me. I love it that I'm yours. Stick around some more. You still wanna read The Book, right?
In a few hours you obviously read it. I receive your text-message: “Hi Stormy. Now that I know you believe me: I MISS YOU MORE THAN YOU CAN IMAGINE. I WISH I COULD MAKE YOU FEEL GOOD ABOUT YOURSELF. I MISS YOU.”
I’m lying on the couch trying to study when I read it. It’s no surprise that tears run down my face. I write back: “Just try to talk to me. I know you miss me. I miss you too. I’m dying without you. I’m so tired of crying all the time, being without you every moment. Talk to me please…”
You call in a few minutes, like I know you will. You’re still making jokes, but there’s no mistaking the undertone of worry and concern in your voice. Now I really know that you still care. But I need to hear it from you:
- I have to know what’s going on. If you tell me that you don’t care anymore, I can accept it. But I can’t not know!
Silence.
- You don’t care anymore. Do you?
More silence. Except that I can hear the sound of your breath. Sounds like you’re about to cry. I don’t want you to. I hate it when I make you cry. Not because I’m the traditional woman who believes men shouldn’t cry. Simply because I know it’s not easy for you. I know you must be in real pain to do it. And I don’t want to be the cause of that pain. You finally manage to tell me how stupid and crazy I am to think that way:
- You don’t understand. I’m a fucking married man. I can’t even sit and cry. I have people to answer to. I want the whole world to know that we’re together. I’m so proud of it. But I can’t! I have to consider the situation. I can’t do anything!!!
My heart goes out to you. I know how much pain you’re in right now. And at the same time, I want to kill you for being stupid you, for wanting to stay in that messed-up marriage, for not daring to change your life. I’m as much of a victim of this marriage as you are.
We sort of make up. You are pissed at me for not intending to show you my haircut tomorrow. You threaten to get physical to have your way! I know you will do it! And I love you for it. But, it won’t be too good for you to be seen wrestling with me at college just to see my haircut! I promise to take my shower and do my hair before showing up. I want to look good for you anyways.
When we say goodbye I’m feeling a bit calmer. I guess I just miss you. Let me have some quality time with you, and I won’t complain about anything anymore!
I then sit down to watch one of my favorite men ever on Opra. Anderson Cooper, a journalist from CNN is on the show tonight. He’s the image of middle-age charm and sex-appeal! Silver-grey very short hair, bluest eyes ever, high cheeks, tall and lean. And to top it all, he’s a great human being. I’m kind of drooling over him when I hear the key turn in the lock!
My God!
I’ve never felt uglier! Never with you. I’m in what I normally sleep in. My hair is a mess. The notes and books and all the reading material that I’ve been ignoring all day are lying around on the desk, chairs, and PC. And I’m in your arms. And the world is beautiful. And life is a blessing. And there’s no pain anymore.
You keep telling me how good my hair looks. How good I look. I feel the blood rush to my face. I love it when you compliment me. You know how much I love to look good for you.
You don’t stay more than five minutes. But I’m happy with that too. It’s the best five minutes. As you kiss me goodbye I reach out. But I stop half way. I know you have to go. I know you’d die to stay. Why make it more difficult for you? Tonight, for once, I’m content with this unexpected five-minute visit. I decide to let you go in peace!
Now I’m surfing the web. What I see, it makes me feel so bad, and yet so great. How do you do this to me all the time:
Love the new policy. Gives me peace to know that you are making peace with me. I won't doubt you ever again. Be strong. Be good. Be my chica.
Stop accusing me of not caring, of not wanting, of not trying.... Please.
I have not forgotten about your hair.
I don't have any plans on my mind to hurt you.
I do not want to forget about you.
I do want to be around as much as I can.
I want you to be happy. I want you to write your book.
I have not forgotten about your book.
I want you to LIVE.
I want you to love life.
I'm sorry if I can't be all the things you want me to be. It's not fair to ask you for things when I'm not giving any in return. I keep on asking for understanding and yet I myself don't understand you. I am sorry for everything. I am sorry.
You shouldn’t be. I’m not. I am happy. I still have you. Can’t you see that? The days of wanting to die each and every minute, days of constant misery and never-ending pain, days of not being with you anymore, my bad days are yet to come…
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