She stands staring at his face with red splotches. He looks like an accusatory three-year-old.
"You tore my favorite t-shirt," he says.
"I'm sorry..." she says resisting her temptation to continue with a 'but.'
He picks up a crumpled one from his bed.
There is just one thing that she hates more than anything else in life: following rules she set for herself. They protect her every single day, or so she'd like to believe. It gives her a sense of control.
But this year is supposed to be all about reciprocity. A decree from her therapist she has to honor. This is a tall ask for someone who has, up until this point, 'over-delivered' in life.
Covering extra shares of brunch and dinner bills, extra-extra hours at work, extra-extra-extra labor on all fronts (physical, emotional, and intellectual) and all the while making it seem as though it's 'no big deal'.
She used to believe she was tolerated everywhere. She would also pick company that demanded nothing short of fortitude to endure.
Every word of criticism of anything she ever uttered would also come with a truck load of defenses diminishing her own statement.
Validating her opponent meant that she would remain safe...
Her eyes cloud with tears. She trembles at the sight of his torn t-shirt. She loses points for not showing patience, though being deftly ignored, and passively shut out commands forbearance of super-human proportions.
"Babe, babe?" he whispers and gently touches her shoulders.
She falls into his arms cries her eyes out.
"I'm sorry. I just couldn't pay attention," he says. He pauses as though he is processing something quickly. "Okay. No excuses. But I want you to know I love you and I'll do everything I can to show I do."
It feels unreal to her and not as real as his occasional negligence.
He tunes out easily. He sometimes doesn't even see her unless she breaks the silence. Is it the comfort that sets in once you live with someone for a considerable time? Or is it disinterest?
The last two years have been too good to be true. She has waited for this to crumble just like all of her past relationships.
She cannot get over the fact that he hasn't lied or cheated. He is not even tired of her! There's something fundamentally wrong...
Topsy turvy is her norm. She is the glue that fails to holds things together. Things falling apart is right as rain.
The time her Mother walked away, her Father sent her away to her Uncle's. A different home every year and she got to he see glimpses of her parents if they decided to show.
Her parents are highly 'principled' people. They can get on a debate about what's ailing the world the most in a heart-beat. They can talk in circles until something more interesting interrupts them.
Her needs couldn't be as big as the world's worst crisis could it?
She has no control over these appearances and disappearances. You cannot force people to commit. Waiting for things to dissipate is the most logical thing to do.
She mastered the craft of needlessness early in life.
The small price she's had to pay is that nobody believes she's for real. How could a person do no wrong?
"You know I didn't mean to t-t-t..." she stutters. It brings her back to the 'horrible' thing that she's done. If it was enough for him to leave her...
He heaves a sigh. "It's not cool that you tore it, but I can live with it," he says. "I'm gonna make coffee for us. I could definitely use some," he says getting up and playfully jiving into the kitchen.
Two years and counting. She can still not come to terms with this change.
It's not just him. Her current friends aren't just 'tolerating' her like she always thought they did. This hits different...
The most crucial question: will these relationships last forever?
He comically pokes his head out leaning over the kitchen counter. She smiles lying on the couch.
He ceremoniously brings a tray with coffee and biscuits.
"Babe, you have every right to be pissed off with me," he begins. "I could have taken a moment to respond to you. I'm sorry I zoned out," he says. No excuses!
"How are you this version that some people can't even be with years of therapy?" she mumbles in disbelief. "I can't believe I did that!"
"You know what? I'm also kind of glad you did! It's okay to lose it sometimes, you know? It's liberating," he says. "So, what did you want to talk about?"
"Just plans for lunch next Saturday. We need to buy groceries. There's a Santhe happening next door that we should go to before it closes," she rattles off.
"Done. I'll get the bags in just a bit. We can go," he says with complete resolution.
Everything feels alright, surprisingly. Despite her breaking her own rule of being 'flawless'. Her pain diminishes.
She hears her therapist, "reciprocity can feel like a fatal jab, while negligence can feel like home."
React
