Sunday, August 13, 2006

Been There, Done That

My neighbors had a heated argument in the middle of the night. I know this not because I am a nosey busy-body (though I am), but rather because it is summer, windows are open, and voices tend to carry, especially screaming ones. It went something like this.

He: You’re cheating on me.
She: You’re cheating on me.

He: I hate that you treat me like crap.
She: I hate that you treat me like crap.

Yadda, yadda. They argue like this all the time. At least once a week. Usually it is followed by something like this.

He: I love you.
She: I love you.

He: Ooo, just like that, baby.
She: Ooo, just like that, baby.

He: Yes, yes, yes, yeeeeees. [moan, moan]
She: Yes, yes, yes, yeeeeees. [moan, moan]

But last night it was different. It went something like this.

He: Don’t make me want to hurt you, bitch.
She: But I love you.

He: [Whack.] Now see what you made me do, bitch.
She: But I love you.

He: You asked for that, bitch. [Door slam.]
She: But I love you. [Sob, sob.]

An interesting turn, but not unexpected. I always saw it in him. If anything, I’m surprised it took him a year.

Only took my guy a few months.

Then came apologies.
And flowers.
Next was the hot, passionate make-up sex.
So I stuck it out for another round.
But I could tell her how the game is played.
Because I’ve been there, done that.

Then it will happen again and again. Then it will be more than a slap. Then it will be more than a punch.

And the flowers will stop. And the apologies will stop. And the hot, passionate, knock-your-sock-off, he-really-does-love-me, make-up sex will stop.

Next will come the mounted-like-a-cheap-whore, make-up sex when he is horny and she dares to be not in the mood. Next she will be apologizing to him. Next she will be thinking everything is her fault.

So she will try extra hard to please him. So she will cook all his favorite meals. So she will spread her legs for him no matter what.

But it will never ever be good enough for him. But maybe, just maybe, she will realize this sooner rather than later. But, if not, I will understand.

Because, after all, it took me years and years. Because I was one of the lucky ones. Because I got out alive.


T said...

Can I add a link to your page on mine?
And there's no reason your kids should be mortified by what you write. It's good.


Thanks T. And, yes, I'd be honored by a link.

When I do let the kids in on my blog, hopefully they will like it inwardly, even though they'll have to do the teen thing and tell me I'm wicked weird. ;)

Vive42 said...

oh. yeah. this old story. i know this one.

are people still playing this story out? i mean, seriously. you'd think the girls would get wise or the boys would get more creative or something.

my version had 2 chicks in it, which makes it even sexier. plus there was the subplot:

she: i'm not like this. its because of the drugs, babe
she: you gotta get clean, i can help you get clean!
she: yeah i'll get clean real soon babe just one more day/weekend/until i get my check/until you get a job
she: this is killing you!
she: i know babe, youre the only one there for me
she: i love you!
she: can you spot me for a bundle? just until i get my check, babe.


Hmm, your twist makes for a far more intriguing tale. I might have to jazz mine up a bit with some ethanol, stalking and weaponry.

TotallyDisgusted said...

But remember---it's ALWAYS the woman's fault!! At least, that's what society trains everyone to believe. Men are taught to take no responsibility in this world. Women are always taking the blame for everything. Instead, everyone looks at the woman and says, "Well, you chose him. You're only attracted to abusers." Nevermind he was the one that struck her. It's the equivalent of someone saying, "Well, she deserved to be raped. She was wearing clothes!"


totallydisgusted: Sad, but kind of true. I think the typical abuser keeps up a pretty good facade to the outside world, which makes people think, 'well, if she got hit, she must have asked for it, right?'