Here’s one for all the broken relationships out there, the psycho manipulative emotional bullies, the abusers and those who love to play the victim and martyr. The liars and thiefs. Here’s one to our alone-ness.
Thus, I am breaking with unspoken laws of this blog, and for this Valentine, I present to you, Gentle Reader, a list of those things about him which still drive me insane with hatred and fury.
-When I began cooking, he would follow me to the kitchen, out of love or whatever. As we had negotiated from before our marriage, he had the washing up, I did the cooking. He would not start the washing up until I was in the kitchen, starting the cooking. Then, as I was cooking, he would take the spoons and forks I was using to stir the pots or test the rice, whatever, and wash them and put them back. So I would turn back from the stove and reach out for my spoon, and see that he had removed from my reach, washed it and put it back in the spoon basket. This humourous little scenario could play out twice during the preparation of a meal.
-The way he would remove only his items of clothing from the washer, and put them to dry.
-His continual little illnesses and medical problems. He had visited a doctor on the day of our marriage- in fact he arrived at the registry office from the doctor’s office. None of these problems were ever anything dreadfully serious, but enough to keep us continuously occupied with doctors, pharmacists, labs and so one, continuously, wherever we are. I have fond memories of traipsing through the streets of Antalya during our summer vacations, trying to translate his particular brand of painkiller to Turkish. Meanwhile, I know he will outlive me and my family memories by many, many years.
-The way he suddenly starts missing the children at the most inconvenient times. When I’m teaching, at class. Dude, you know I am teaching on Thursday evenings, we`ve been talking about for, like, the past year, and how important this is for me. Why do you need to start missing the children and call AT THE EXACT TIME YOU KNOW I AM LECTURING? Why? It’s, like, 2 am in Iran! Go to fucking sleep!
-The way he goes on and on about money.
Anyway, there are the big things he has done to me, the things I can’t speak about out of humiliation and fear of hurting my family, out of fear of memories. The things which are basically unbelievable. But the things is, I can understand those big things and though perhaps “forgive” would not be quite the word- but I can, let us say “move on” from them. And I can understand the kind of mindset and passion which were the impetus for those things. But these small things, ahh, these little every day actions, woven into the fabric of our lives. Year in, year out. Devouring our hearts and souls.