Tuesday, August 21, 2007

I don't expect you to understand.

It was a mild night in comparrison to the cold nights we’ve had recently and as I stared at the rain that was rolling down the window pane, I realised that not only was it raining outside but it was raining within my heart and had been for some time.
The sound of the rain was familiar and refreshing. I realised that I’d got accostomed to the pain that I was feeling inside.
That night is etched in my memory, the night I made you so mad that you came at me, it was raining that night too. You’re cheeks were red, your face seething with anger and your fist as it hit my face made a sound that I could never describe in words. Your punch came tight, you hurt me and I have been effected by it but I love you regardless. In my heart and my head you’re still the best thing that ever happened to me.
Friends often say I was crazy for putting up with you for so long, they don’t understand, they don’t realise that the love I have for you is strong enough to overcome any doubts that they have. I wont hear a bad word said about you, even if those words are true, I stick up for you everytime. I happily slate you, you upset me some times, it’s my right too, but no one else has that right, no one else is allowed to put you down.You always apologised to me. You always found ways to tell me the words “I’m sorry” and I forgive you every time. It’s not like you hurt me often anyway. Although I do remember every time vividly.
When we were first married, we didn’t have a lot of money, we were renting the most dingeyest flat but we made it our own. The sofas were donated to us by my grannie and were patterned with beigh and brown flowers, they were hideous but everything we had, we made our own. We had these cream, sheep wool throws, that we used to put over the sofas to hide how disgusting they were. One night when you came in from the pub, I’d been sat watching the TV and the throw had become all wrinkled and looked untidy. When you’re sober things like that were never a problem, yet when you’re drunk it’s a different matter. The same thing happened then, your cheeks reddened, your face seethed with anger and I braced myself, knowing full well what was to come. You felt so bad that time, I caught you curled up in the corner, I could tell then that guilt had overshadowed you. I said to you “I want to help you but I am scared that I will fail you” you knew anyway, there’s nothing I can write that you don’t already know, I tell you everything.
That’s what people don’t understand, our marriage isn’t perfect but we tell each other everything, and we don’t hide things from each other. You never hid your anger from me and I never really hid my hurt from you. You knew that if there was a way that I could help you then I would.
The last time you got mad was it though for me, you knew I’d been ill, I had no idea what time you were going to get in from the pub, and yes maybe I should have made sure there was food in the house for you to eat but I certainly didn’t expect for you to threaten me with a knife. I didn’t want to leave, I didn’t want to let go, but I had too because I am so scared of what might have happened next, what might happen if I didn’t leave, if I didn’t let go.
I am sat in the front room at my mum’s house, it’s the same house I grew up in. This house is like a security blanket for me, my safe house. I used to watch the rain streaming down the window when I was child too, just like I am now but I don’t remember feeling like this then, I used to be happy. You’ve been round 3 times and I have refused to see you, you’ve sent me 2 boxes of chocolates and 3 bunches of flowers and if you send me another apology note then I might just take you back because I enjoy the attention you give me but I don’t think you should be giving it. Surely even you realise that we’re not good for each other anymore.
It was as if you read my mind because I never did receive another letter of apology, nor did I receive anymore gifts. At first I was fine about it, well I wasn’t fine, about it, but I had even changed my mobile so you’d have to stop calling me. Yet when 2 months went by with no contact, I found it hard to accept, you knew where I was. I soon realised that you must have given up. That hurt more than any physical pain I’d experienced. The man I loved, the man I married, the man I thought I’d spend the rest of my life with.. YOU.. you had given up on me, on us. I went to our flat, but you weren’t there, that’s right, it was me who left my number on your car.
You never did call that number and I never plucked up the courage to go back to our flat, I figured you may have met someone else and there was no way I could go through that.This makes it sound like it was all so bad, but it wasn’t I recall the time when my dad died.
I was broken, I didn’t ever think I could be fixed but you helped me say goodbye to my dad in a way that was so special, in a way that I would never forget. You knew how hard I was finding things and you really thought about what you could do to make me feel better, and you did make me feel better. I have never once forgotten that, I put a picture of you by my bed not because I fancy you, but because I am thankful for what you did for me in my time of need.
You see I like to remember the good times too because there were a good few, like the time I had a dream that you saw me naked and for some reason I was ashamed, it’s not like you’d never seen me naked before so I don’t know why I dreamt it. I told you about that dream. The next day you decided to rein act the dream and waited for me to get home from work, and you were in the kitchen naked. It would have been a great plan a part from that night I had invited the girls over for a girly night and 2 of my friends arrived early. We laughed about that so often. We certainly had some good times.I knew the drink and your anger would end up being the death of you. When I got the call saying that you'd been in hospital for a few days and had been in intensive care but didn't make it through the night, I wasn’t surprised at all. I tried to help you, but I guess in the end I failed you. There was a reason for that failure though, I feared you. You did do things wrong but you made me laugh like no other.
As the rain ran down the window pane the tears roll down my cheeks, I never stopped loving you.
To my wonderful husband who wasn’t perfect.
RIP.

5 Comments:

Blogger bondibetty said...

That was beautifully sad. Gretta, is this you? If it is, I want to wrap you up in cotton wool and protect you from anything like that ever again.

4:47 PM  
Blogger Aaron said...

wow

5:57 PM  
Blogger *kb* said...

Gretta this is so amazing and also so sad. Thank you for sharing this with us!!

7:15 PM  
Blogger Scotty said...

I am with Betty..

9:36 PM  
Blogger Gretta James said...

Not me guys, it's just a short story I wrote.

Gretta x

12:27 AM  

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