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Drama

I can’t believe we’re arguing over this… again. After three years of marriage, I thought we’d be past it by now. He always says that it’s never his intention to make me upset but every time he brings it up, I get in a way. I just wish he would believe me. Then we could leave it alone. But once again, here we are. 


Derek and I met ten years ago, shortly after I graduated college and started a job in a new city. I had no family and no friends in the area so I made it a point to make myself available. What started out as solo happy hours and unaccompanied brunch dates, quickly turned into an endless list of contacts that kept my social life extremely active. I was an extrovert and enjoyed being the life of the party. That was my personality. That all changed drastically when we got married. 


Derek was the last new person to make it to my contact list. Although there wasn’t anything particularly special about him, he was charming enough to work his way into my heart. He had a calm about him that I admired. Something that balanced my tornado-like presence. However, after a year or so of dating, I noticed his not so subtle comments about said presence which was surprising to me since it was that same presence that he claimed to have fallen in love with. But overtime, he found it to be less endearing and more overwhelming; expressing his dislike of how I made him feel invisible in public.

 

But how was that my fault? I couldn’t help it. Maybe if he weren’t so boring, maybe they would like him. Not that he was boring. I never thought that he was boring. He just had a different way of connecting with people. Different from me, for sure. But that’s what I liked about him. He was a bit dull but lovable. He treated me incredibly well and took pride in having me as his partner. He was just the opposite of me. But I loved him. I still love him. We just disagreed sometimes. 


Today, we were on our third argument of the day and it was only noon. At 7:36 am, he interrupted my sleep to remind me to pick up the clothes I had left on the floor near the bed. The clothes that I had taken off for him by the way. But since he so graciously declined my late night proposition, I thought he should be the one to pick them up, only to have it turn into what he would call a “connubial disagreement” (which I discovered early in our marriage was just his annoying way of saying “argument”). He was a little anal when it came to cleanliness so after we spent a good five minutes going back and forth, he wound up picking them up anyway. So, obviously I was irritated, since he could’ve just done that in the first place instead of waking me from my glorious slumber. 


Next was the 10 am quarrel over our Sunday activity. Something we did every week. A day of uninterrupted time, just the two of us. His idea, not mine. This week, we had planned a picnic in the park, with a basket filled with all of our favorites. The problem arose when he noticed I was packing more of my favorites than his. The fact he even mentioned it was annoying in itself but what really pissed me off was when he started to unpack and replace items from the delicious masterpiece I spent nearly an hour creating. To him, it was trivial. To me, it was the “end of world”. His words, not mine. “What’s the big deal?”, he finally asked. For which I responded, “Whatever!”, then walked away. A few minutes later, he found me in our bedroom closet getting ready to change back into my pajamas because at that point, I was sure we were staying home. For which he responded by removing my panties, dropping to his knees, placing my right leg over his shoulder, and doing the only thing that could convince me to change my mind. 


Now, here we were. Sitting in a parked car, watching other people enjoy the beautiful weather at the park on a Sunday afternoon. We too could have been a part of this scenic view if he hadn’t started another argument. 


By the time we arrived, I was in a better mood and looking forward to setting up our picnic. Nevertheless, Derek found a way to get me back to a state of vexation when he cut off the ignition then turned to me and asked, “Kacee, do you love me?”. 


“What kind of question is that to ask your wife, Derek”, I replied exasperated. 


“It’s a simple question, sweetheart.” he said, sincerely. 


“A question you should already know the answer to, sweetheart!”, I responded offensively.


Sensing my frustration, he let out a loud sigh before leaning forward to grab my hand. 


“Kacee, look at me” he whispered, not saying another word until my eyes left the window and made their way to his. Once he had my attention, he brought my hand to his lips, kissed the back of it, and said, “I love you so much, Kay. I just want to know that we are on the same page here.”


The problem was that we had been on this page before. The one where he was asking this same question. This was the fifth time that he had asked over the course of our seven years together. And each time I was more offended than the last. 


But I just wanted to move forward, Wanted him to believe me when I said I did. I loved him and it didn’t make sense that he would ask me more than once. I thought I showed it by sticking around and not leaving even though I felt like I wanted to most of the time. I wanted to make us work. But he was pushing me to my limit. I had already lost a bit of myself when we got married and I refused to lose anymore. 


So instead of answering his question, I asked, “You just love making me upset, don’t you?” 


“Just answer the question, Kacee”, he replied with a bit of an attitude. 


“I just don’t understand you” I said, still avoiding the question. “After seven years together, the fact that you still have to ask me is laughable” I continued with an unamused chuckle. 


“And the fact that you can’t answer the question is sad”. 


With that he dropped my hand, turned forward in his seat and gripped the steering wheel. As surprised as I was by his response, I tried not to show it. 


Derek was always so patient with me. He was always loving and kind. But that response came from a place I hadn’t known before. As his grip tightened on the wheel, I could see his nostrils flair and hear his breathing increase. 


Whenever he asked this question in the past, we would have a short back and forth with him relenting and me eventually telling him yes. But this time felt different. He was angry. He never got angry. He was always so patient. So loving and kind. But maybe I had pushed him to his limit. 


Everytime he tried to compromise with me, I pushed back. Thought only of myself. Took advantage of his patience. But I loved him. I still love him. Now I wasn’t so sure he still loved me. So, I leaned towards him and asked him something I never had to question before. 


“Derek, do you love me?” For which he responded, “No, not anymore.”

July 08, 2022 20:59

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