Marriage Talk 9
“No, that’s just part of it.
But it’s true ,
you never defend me!
I’m your wife and you never tell them that maybe,
I’m right and they’re wrong!”
Knowing his wife was right about this,
however, if she was allowed to say
whatever she felt to hurt him,
why shouldn’t he?
“I’m sorry,” he said,
“but most of the time I think you ‘are’ wrong,
and that some of the things you do I can’t logically defend.”
The degree of disgust showing in the tone of her voice:
“You are so wrong!
I am your wife!
Nobody should be allowed to say anything bad about me!
And if you let them
—for any reason—
it tells me you’re a coward and
don’t care enough about me to defend me!”
ticking her complaints off on his fingers,
“so I can’t provide a decent living!
I’m a lousy lover!
I hate you and I’m a fuckin’ coward!
Tell you what,”
his anger apparent,
“next time someone looks at you cross-eyed,
to prove I love you I’ll kick the shit out of them,
or die trying!
“I don’t want you to kick the shit out of anyone,
—although she’d love to see physical proof of his love,
and if it called for him to get into a fight,
even if he did get hurt well—
“And,” the young woman continued,
“I certainly don’t want to you to die trying!
I just want you to defend me!
“And, yeah, there ‘is’ something else…”
In case you hadn’t noticed,
we don’t have any!”
Another one from way out in left field.
“Friends?” he said,
We’ve got friends!”
“Oh, yeah, sure!
Rose and harry,
and my cousin
and maybe her husband.
But before we were married
I had dozens of friends!
How come I don’t see any of them now?”
Thinking somehow this was going to be his fault, too,
“I don’t know,” he said tiredly.
“So tell me,
‘How come you don’t see any of them now’?”
Marriage Talk 10
“ ‘How come’?”
The wife exclaimed,
I’d have to say it’s because of you!”
Knowing, of course,
‘he’d’ be the blame,
“ ‘Me’?” he said.
“Outside of introducing me
to a few of your friends
when we’d run into them,
I’ve only met a few.
How in the hell,” he asked,
“could your lack of friends be because of me?”
“For example,” she said,
“Remember when we had Shelly and Marshall over?
You ‘knew’ you were being rude!”
Thinking a moment,
“Yeah,” he said,
“that’s true .
I was rude to Marshall.
But he’s such’a jerk!
You said so yourself,
and that you couldn’t wait till the two’a them left.”
“I said I couldn’t wait till he left!
But that didn’t give you the right
to make a hangman’s knot out of that piece of rope
and dangle it in front of his face all evening.”
Recalling the incident,
which they both laughed over
after they’d ‘finally’ taken the hint and left.
Suppressing a smile,
“All my friends think you’re a conceited jerk.”
The young wife said.
“ ‘All your friends’, huh?
I thought you just said
you never see any of your friends!”
“Well, those friends that I…
‘Whatever’ friends I have
think you’re a conceited jerk.”
“Really? They told you that, huh?”
“Well, not in so many words,”
After reflecting a few moments,
he said softly.
“But you know I’ve always had a problem
with people thinking because I look like I do,
I’ve got to have a personality to match.
You know when I’ve something to say
I’m talkative and other times I’m not.”
since marrying, the young man had felt
overshadowed by his wife’s quick wit and,
when in the company of others,
sometimes felt smothered by
her quirky personality, too.
When this happened
most often he would withdraw
into a shell of silence and,
try hard as he might,
words would not come to him.
At those times he felt as though in a vacuum
where he was able to hear
but was unable to speak.
—due to his good looks—
in the past had often been taken for conceit;
could now possibly be taken as…?
Indifference to those around him.
Knowing his wife did have,
okay, not all,
but a few valid issues,
particularly in regard to his parents,
and as she had a way of saying
things that caused him to doubt himself
—more than he usually doubted himself—
and as this was certainly
one of those times and,
as it was late and as he knew
this conversation was going no place for him…
Also, if it went on much longer
it may well develop into an argument
—amazed it hadn’t already—
turning the light off,
I’ll work on being nicer to your friends.”
To be continued
©April 27, 2012 / Mark M. Lichterman