Love Is Complicated

Janine is gone. She took my keys, my dog, and what was left of my dignity. When I think about the way things transpired, I really shouldn't be surprised.

They always say that fighting is inevitable in any relationship, and we always thought we were better than that. For years, we laughed and joked and told each other that we'd never make the same mistakes as all those others, that we'd never be that petty. We'd never even argued over what movie to watch. Then, one Christmas it just sort of started. It doesn't feel the way they tell you it feels. It's not always about making yourself feel better, or being bored, or resentment. Sometimes it's simple, but no less difficult. I woke up the Monday morning before and I realized I didn't love her anymore. The problem was, is that I was just too scared to tell her. Instead, I just got mean. I poked fun at her family, her sister who couldn't hold down a job, her Mom's refusal to tweeze her decidedly Texan eyebrows. When she worked all day on dinner, not letting me help and giggling about surprises, only to reveal a set of tree and Santa shaped cookies, I sighed a passive thank you and sarcastically called the idea “original.” She looked at me, and didn't say anything, but I could tell she knew something had switched inside of me.

It went on like this for months. She'd do nothing, and I'd pick at it. Nothing aggressive, just enough to be mean without it seeming intentional. I'd hoped she'd just start to fall out of love with me, that she'd find someone else who could make her happy. I stopped asking her why she'd come home late from working, begging for another man to enter the picture. I couldn't care about her anymore, but I couldn't see her cry. I often wondered if this was what all men felt like.

Thinking of this now makes me wonder what she looked like when she was sad.

I went to bed later and later every night. I told her I was watching HBO. What I was really doing, was staring at the wall behind the television at our wedding photo, trying to understand what it was back then, trying to fill up the space where I used to keep something for her alive. After awhile, I just stopped looking.

She started to fight back, to fight for me, but it was too late. She'd tell me that I wasn't the same, and ask what was wrong constantly. I couldn't even bring myself then to tell her what it was, even then with an opening, and I'd just leave the room silently so I wouldn't have to look her in the eye.

Eventually, she had enough. Last night, as I lay down pretending to sleep, I heard her come in. She'd been crying, but crawled into bed next to me anyway and whispered “I love you” dry and quiet, for the last time. I remained silent. I didn't even feel guilty.

And now she's gone, and I know, even if I changed my mind right now, I'll never see her again.

When I think back on it now, I probably wouldn't have been such a bastard if I knew she was going to bury me alive in a steamer trunk in the backyard.

Comments

[Tyler]

FANTASTIC

[CHEYENNE]

Great writing Chris. Love the ending.

[sarah b]

perfect ending.

[ctrl+v]

"Please note that this marriage is indissoluble and regardless of the direction your relationship takes after this day, this marriage will be a permanent record of your life's most romantic moment, beautifully engraved in history...your commitment is forever."