She was not the prettiest one, but, she had the aspect
of really lovinging me--no, not love, that is an overstatement--reality is more complicated.
Rather, she saw me as someone she could not have hoped for
and that made her happy, which I think she morphed over into
into some kind of love, no, maybe she developed that into a sense
of devotion to me, undergrid with a layer of gratitude mixed in.
I always sensed she couldn't believe her luck. And, that created a sense of vunerabilty in her and I noticed this and it made me like her even more. That vunerabitly even though I could not, and did not, see its origins nonetheless, made me want to protect her and I felt that, in me, it could easily grow into love. But, she saw it slightly differently because part of her always felt that luck might change, that I might find someone else. Luck is, after all, not the best of bases for a long-term relationship. That is why, I suspect, she added to this circumstance that additional factor of devotion; because luck does not require reward but devotion does, in her thinking.
"He doesn't really understand me and I can see him looking at me wondering what I really feel and why; but he seems content to consider those answers a mystery and to content himself with appreciating whatever that mysterious something was; he liked how it presented especially when I presented to him my vunerable self and proved to him that I was devoted to him and needed him,. He needed to feel that I was sure."
So she gave that to him as her understanding of what she needed to do to make the relationship stable and for it to grow. She gave him what he responded to and seemed to need.
And for a time that seemed to work just fine.
But it changed. No, rather she changed. After some time she began to feel new pulls in new directions and a new self was getting born out of her experiences and that while he loved her old self, she sensed he was not and did not like the new feelings and thoughts surging through her. Besides it was boring doing and being the same old person all the time. Why shouldn't she take belly-dancing lessons?
She found her self getting more insecure as these thoughts grew, the more she allowed herself to think about new ways of being and doing life, the more insecure she became.
But she couldn't show him all this. She wasn't sure of how he would react. No she was sure of how he would react. It was that she was not sure of how she would react to how he would react.
See. Its complicated.
Her real underneath fear was that the whole circumstance was beginning feel like an emotional trap and that had a component of ingratitude to it because she had devoted herself to him but, also, a fear of that because, after all, it was luck that he had chosen her in the first place. He could have had a lot of other girls. But by luck and some mysterious reasoning, he chose her. So why wasn't she content with that?
He could see her, in his mind holding his hand, but her mind was on other things. Rote answers and silent nods made him feel she was drifting away in odd moments and even during those intimate ones. And that rode up in his throat and he thought she was losing her sense of how lucky she really was.
But that thought made him feel bad because he could see how hard she worked at things, how devoted she was to everything, him included. She was trying, really trying.
But underneath he could see despite all that trying it wasn't really working for her anymore, it was getting to be more and more work for her to be the cheery one, to anticipate his needs and moods.
That was the scary part. It didn't matter that it didn't work for him, after all, he had not asked for her devotion. That was what she had chosen to give. No, the scary part was that aspect, he could see, was no longer working for her.
The more he saw it was not working for her the more resentful he felt himself becoming because of that. It felt like she was foisting upon him some emotional lie, one she no longer herself believed in, and one he had never even asked for. But, for it to go away, nonetheless, felt like a loss.
After all, if she was no longer interested in what she had to give, and what he had not asked for but had gotten used to getting--what now was he to do?
It was devastating for her to realize that he was drifting away, no longer interested in her needing him, wanting to be close to him, in her doing little things for him. This was beginning to feel like despair. No, despair mixed with betrayal. She had worked so hard in the relationship. Why would he now reject what she had to give. It made no sense.
Unless there was another woman.
He was sure of it. She was changing and he had no clue, no clue about how to go about getting back that which he had never asked for in the first place, and now, it was becoming clear, something she was less and less interested in giving.
After all, she was thinking, maybe her luck was running out and some other woman now had the luck.
Maybe he could get back to what he wanted, whatever that used to be. But he couldn't remember what that was. He was now all focused on what she was no longer offering.
After all what man would not want a woman who seemed very willing to be devoted to him?
What is our story here?" he thought to himself.
"What is going on here?" she thought to herself.
To Be Continued