Midnight Thoughts After A Fight

I’m sitting on my bed, quite motionless. My wife lies beside me. She’s at peace. Or at least I think she is. I had quite a row with her, just before she went to bed. It didn’t get into anything violent this time, just an exchange of heated words and some swearing. I decided to stay outside, on the couch – I couldn’t stand being with her in the same room.

It’s late into the night. I think it’s sometime past 2. I thought I heard the clock chiming in the room next to this a while ago. Twice. It’s pitch-black, there’s no moon outside. I like it better that way.

As I stare into the darkness in front of me, I start wondering about how we came to be in a place of absolute hopelessness. Hopelessness isn’t the right word, though. I don’t know how to express what we have become. Toxic? Maybe. But I don’t like to use that word.

What went so wrong with us? I still don’t understand. Why can’t I bear her presence anymore? Why can’t she, mine? Why do I hate her so much, but can’t let go, for I love her too much at the same time? Why is it so tough for me to accept that she will not be with me, when I despise the fact that she is?

We fight. Most days, verbally. Sometimes it gets physical. I hit her with my hands, she hits me with stuff. We get hurt, emotionally and physically. And then we try to find some sort of comfort in each other’s arms. For a while, we do. It never lasts.

People are tired of telling us it’s toxic. I wish they’d stop telling us that. We are not dumb; we know we are toxic. But nobody understood how we felt. Nobody had to go through what we did on a constant basis. It's easy to give off a verdict about a situation when it's not happening to you. You can think rationally when you do not have to live with the constant pain and hardship. But I feel it’s insensitive to assume that everyone can take logical decisions if they want to.

I often wonder how human beings can be so much in denial. I have a hard time remembering the last time I felt happy with my wife. I can’t remember a specific memory, unless I go way back to when we started dating. Or maybe when we weren’t married. The thought makes me laugh a bit – look at me thinking about life as if I were a very old and bitter man with a terrible memory. I stop quickly, though, thinking that I may wake her up due to my laughter. However, I realized that that fear was meaningless. What’s the point?

Do I see a light, anywhere, with us? Absolutely not. That phase has passed me a long time ago. But it took me a long time to accept that. Even though my memory is blurry with snippets of what used to be, I remember a distinct feeling of happiness, of attraction, of addiction, of love. That feeling is what stops me from lashing out at her with full force, that is what makes my blood boil with anger when I hear anyone telling me, “man, it’s toxic, you should get a move on.” I don’t know what that feeling is, and with every day that goes by, I feel it’s fading. I try as much as I can to grasp on to it, to hold on to whatever that’s left of that magic, but it just keeps getting away from me, into some oblivion that tries to take me within it as well. I lose track of what’s real and what’s not, but I can’t accept a reality where I am separated from the feeling that keeps me alive.

I've often tried to think about what would happen if she left me. I could never go anywhere with that thought, though. It was always unbearable. I guess she felt the same way. There was absolutely no reason why she would be with me. There still isn't. But she never wanted to leave. Neither did I.

Toxic existence is better than meaningless existence, I guess. That's what people don't understand. Nobody can comprehend what it's like to lead a meaningless life. That's why they can pass around judgment without a single thought. I wish they lied to me, assuring me that everything would be okay, knowing fully well that wouldn't be. I would have liked that, even though I would know that it wasn't true. Reassurance from someone else could have added a bit more unrealistic meaning to the life I've been living for so long.

Nobody says it’s going to be better, though. I know it will not get better. But the constant feelings of hopelessness and frustration do not get any better with verdicts of impending doom from everyone, everywhere. I wish I had a way of switching off my brain, at times. It feels too much, these days.

But I finally understand. I finally accept.

There indeed is no escape. Or at least, there is no escape while we are together, and there is no existence if we are not. It’s not as if I didn’t know it all along, but accepting it was a difficult task.

I no longer live with the fear of losing my magic into oblivion. I will not let my magic get lost. I will keep it close to my heart, even if that means I'm getting lost in the darkness that has no reality, no existence, and no meaning. Without my magic, there is no meaning to anything. I do not want to be a part of a reality without the feeling that keeps me alive. And I’m sure that she feels the same way.

That’s why I feel she’s finally at peace. And I slowly, but surely, am getting there as well.

The night is almost over. I’m waiting for the sun to shine over my wife’s beautiful face one last time.

I’m sure all the blood covering her dead face won’t matter to me. She’ll look just as beautiful as ever.