He said he wanted to visit me in the city. Said he has a little money and would like to buy some books, some CDs, eat and have a nice time. As it happened, I was down in the dumps and in need of company. We both harbor hopes that things can go back to where they were when we were happy, three years ago when circumstances brought us together. Before.
Before what? What is that "what" we carry a vague notion of but can't really describe? We only know that once we were content in each other's company and now we fight after two days together. We squabble, we argue, we call names, we bring up the past, we try to articulate our disdain for each other's behavior and actions. He presses my buttons, I get vexed and stop placating him. I say things he doesn't understand, he sulks, throws tantrums and fills the air with enough blather to sink us, and our surroundings. We are the classic case of a couple who can no longer abide each other but fervently hope that is not the case because we still think we are in love. We are not original or particularly amusing; there's nothing amusing about such a terrible display. Our manners run and hide and we are left with embarrassing aftershock.
Or at least I am. I'm conscious of everything that is going on and am often looking on as a third person. I could easily write this story in a third-person narrative as I sometimes feel quite removed from the drama. That is not really me having this ridiculous shouting match on the street, is it? Definitely not me exchanging barbs in Whole Foods for everyone to hear. No, that's not D. and G. unable to control themselves on the street corner; they are too cool for that.
For his part, he is not conscious. With him it is always first-person, unable to come out of himself, he sees nothing, is aware of no one, his anger a molten hot lava of irritation. He never feels embarrassment at these times as I do. The other shoppers do not exist for him. He is the great I AM.
"I am a musician, I am an artist, I am literate, I am a nice guy, always looking out for my friends, I am just trying to make you happy, I am just trying to have a nice time, I am a man." I am, I am, I am...and then there is the I am not..."I am not an idiot, I am not a fag, I am not an ape, I am not a slob, I am not trying to upset you." It goes on and on, the litany of his attributes followed by the disclaimers.
This is only a sampling of today's diatribe and you are lucky to have missed it. It went on for forty-five minutes before I broke in with a weak rejoinder and he told me to "shut the fuck up, I am talking. Why do you need to talk?" He absolutely loves to hear his voice ring out. Most of his friends are also big talkers and there is always a fight for the floor especially when they have had quite a bit to drink which is any time they get together. I have learned to say little. I enjoy intelligent conversation but that is not the point. It is to fill the air and exercise the vocal chords. Possibly the ego. My role is as listener and my contributions can go ignored unless they are in agreement with some view being put forth.
In all honesty, I really rail on his alleged faults and he never counters with the level of vitriol I can produce. He is the more intense, but alas, cannot articulate as well and resorts to profanity. An outside observer might say I am the more vicious of the two--I can really call names, like; "self-absorbed," "moron," "blathering drunk," "big baby" and "gasbag;" invectives that easily reach the tip of my tongue. For his part, all he comes up with is "weird," or "cold." He appears to be a little less ruthless but the real story is that he can't quite get a handle on me and is left with "weird" which is not something that is necessarily very insulting.
To pile an equal amount of scorn on me, he would have to have taken a good look at me, my behavior and have listened to what I've said. Here is where he comes up short during fights. He just doesn't get outside of himself enough; he is fighting a battle with no knowledge of the enemy. He knows there is a possible enemy but can't be bothered to wrap his brain around the particulars. The enemy just isn't as important as himself.
Once he leaves I feel an uncomfortable tinge of guilt. I am sorry for the things I said. I do not dislike him after all and I know that he is hurt. He needs approval more than I do. I chastise myself for losing my temper. I wonder why I have stopped humoring him, why not let him alone with his bluster. It doesn't really mean anything. Don't provoke him so much. For the first two years of our relationship this was my stance. Just smile, ignore the nonsense and let him back into the fold with grace. This strategy worked out fine. I was a veritable Edith Bunker. It was my way of sustaining a relationship, one that was important to me. Perhaps in those early days he was more entertaining, less draining.
But one day I cracked. We were on the bus. He went into a rant, complete with profanity which often happened but usually we were on one of the more downtrodden lines where his behavior was just more of the same. That day, we were on an upscale line with mothers taking children to nursery school and I could hear his angry voice forgetting himself and using words a mother would not care to have her child hear on the way to school. I pulled him off the bus and let him have it right on the street in front of those waiting to board. His grace period was over. From that day, a different mode was established. We became each other's hell.
When we separate in horror, he returning to his home and I to mine, he bristles for an hour or so before settling back into his routine. When I am finally alone, I feel remorse and confusion for a day, maybe two, and then settle back into my routine. We are both certain it is the end of this gnarly relationship and vow to let it go.
In a month he will call and I will be lonely. We will plan to spend a weekend together. We will look forward to seeing each other and again harbor hopes of making it all better. He can be said to be "hopeful" and the same can be said for me; hoping I can be still and know that he is God. That I probably won't be able to pull this off will result in more battles but I am confident of winning most of them. I know the enemy and he is easily drubbed.
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