Read me…

When I got home that night as my wife served dinner, I held her hand and said, I’ve got something to tell you. She sat down and ate quietly. Again I observed the hurt in her eyes. Suddenly I didn’t know how to open my mouth. But I had to let her know what I was thinking. I want a divorce. I raised the topic calmly. She didn’t seem to be annoyed by my words, instead she asked me softly, why? I avoided her question. This made her angry. She threw away the chopsticks and shouted at me, you are not a man! That night, we didn’t talk to each other. She was weeping. I knew she wanted to find out what had happened to our marriage. But I could hardly give her a satisfactory answer; she had lost my heart to Jane. I didn’t love her anymore. I just pitied her! With a deep sense of guilt, I drafted a divorce agreement which stated that she could own our house, our car, and 30% stake of my company. She glanced at it and then tore it into pieces. The woman who had spent ten years of her life with me had become a stranger. I felt sorry for her wasted time, resources and energy but I could not take back what I had said for I loved Jane so dearly. Finally she cried loudly in front of me, which was what I had expected to see. To me her cry was actually a kind of release. The idea of divorce which had obsessed me for several weeks seemed to be firmer and clearer now. The next day, I came back home very late and found her writing something at the table. I didn’t have supper but went straight to sleep and fell asleep very fast because I was tired after an eventful day with Jane. When I woke up, she was still there at the table writing. I just did not care so I turned over and was asleep again. In the morning she presented her divorce conditions: she didn’t want anything from me, but needed a month’s notice before the divorce. She requested that in that one month we both struggle to live as normal a life as possible. Her reasons were simple: our son had his exams in a month’s time and she didn’t want to disrupt him with our broken marriage. This was agreeable to me. But she had something more, she asked me to recall how I had carried her into our bridal room on our wedding day. She requested that every day for the month’s duration I carry her out of our bedroom to the front door ever morning. I thought she was going crazy. Just to make our last days together bearable I accepted her odd request. I told Jane about my wife’s divorce conditions. . She laughed loudly and thought it was absurd. No matter what tricks she applies, she has to face the divorce, she said scornfully. My wife and I hadn’t had any body contact since my divorce intention was explicitly expressed. So when I carried her out on the first day, we both appeared clumsy. Our son clapped behind us, daddy is holding mommy in his arms. His words brought me a sense of pain. From the bedroom to the sitting room, then to the door, I walked over ten meters with her in my arms. She closed her eyes and said softly; don’t tell our son about the divorce. I nodded, feeling somewhat upset. I put her down outside the door. She went to wait for the bus to work. I drove alone to the office. On the second day, both of us acted much more easily. She leaned on my chest. I could smell the fragrance of her blouse. I realized that I hadn’t looked at this woman carefully for a long time. I realized she was not young any more. There were fine wrinkles on her face, her hair was graying! Our marriage had taken its toll on her. For a minute I wondered what I had done to her. On the fourth day, when I lifted her up, I felt a sense of intimacy returning. This was the woman who had given ten years of her life to me. On the fifth and sixth day, I realized that our sense of intimacy was growing again. I didn’t tell Jane about this. It became easier to carry her as the month slipped by. Perhaps the everyday workout made me stronger. She was choosing what to wear one morning. She tried on quite a few dresses but could not find a suitable one. Then she sighed, all my dresses have grown bigger. I suddenly realized that she had grown so thin, that was the reason why I could carry her more easily. Suddenly it hit me… she had buried so much pain and bitterness in her heart. Subconsciously I reached out and touched her head. Our son came in at the moment and said, Dad, it’s time to carry mom out. To him, seeing his father carrying his mother out had become an essential part of his life. My wife gestured to our son to come closer and hugged him tightly. I turned my face away because I was afraid I might change my mind at this last minute. I then held her in my arms, walking from the bedroom, through the sitting room, to the hallway. Her hand surrounded my neck softly and naturally. I held her body tightly; it was just like our wedding day. But her much lighter weight made me sad. On the last day, when I held her in my arms I could hardly move a step. Our son had gone to school. I held her tightly and said, I hadn’t noticed that our life lacked intimacy. I drove to office…. jumped out of the car swiftly without locking the door. I was afraid any delay would make me change my mind…I walked upstairs. Jane opened the door and I said to her, Sorry, Jane, I do not want the divorce anymore. She looked at me, astonished, and then touched my forehead. Do you have a fever? She said. I moved her hand off my head. Sorry, Jane, I said, I won’t divorce. My marriage life was boring probably because she and I didn’t value the details of our lives, not because we didn’t love each other anymore. Now I realize that since I carried her into my home on our wedding day I am supposed to hold her until death do us apart. Jane seemed to suddenly wake up. She gave me a loud slap and then slammed the door and burst into tears. I walked downstairs and drove away. At the floral shop on the way, I ordered a bouquet of flowers for my wife. The salesgirl asked me what to write on the card. I smiled and wrote, I’ll carry you out every morning until death do us apart. That evening I arrived home, flowers in my hands, a smile on my face, I ran up stairs, only to find my wife in the bed -dead. My wife had been fighting CANCER for months and I was too busy with Jane to even notice. She knew that she would die soon and she wanted to save me from whatever negative reaction it would have on our son, in case we pushed through with the divorce. —At least, in the eyes of our son—-I’m a loving husband…. THE SMALL DETAILS OF YOUR LIVES ARE WHAT REALLY MATTER IN A RELATIONSHIP. “IT’S NOT” the Mansion or House, the Car, Property, the Money in the bank. These create an environment conducive for happiness but cannot give happiness in themselves. So find time to be your spouse’s friend and do those little things for each other that build intimacy. Most of life’s failures are people who did not realize how close they were to success when they gave up… YOU DON’T REALIZE WHAT YOU HAVE UNTIL IT’S GONE. Why do we we take things for granted?

I liked the story; I didn’t fix anything. I hope you didn’t mind me sharing.

7 Comments

    1. I did think of something else to say. If she knew she had cancer – and the idiot husband had his mind on Jane (or whatever), why didn’t she tell him? See, this is the shit I just don’t understand! Doesn’t matter if she knew she was terminal or not; if the asshole husband wasn’t paying attention as he should have been, MAKE THE FUCKER PAY ATTENTION!!

      If he noticed shit going on that eventually made him turn to Jane for succor, well, why didn’t the motherfucker at the least ask her why things were the way they were? I get a very different take from this story, like, um, how fucking important it is to communicate with each other. The story angered me and I’m still pissed and it doesn’t matter whether it’s true or not. It’s got to be the worst fucking feeling in the world to come home and find your wife dead – and you didn’t even know she was dying because (a) you weren’t fucking paying attention and (b) she, for some reason, didn’t feel it was important to tell you right after she found out – what the fuck? Seriously – WHAT THE FUCK?

      Yeah, sure, in the eyes of his son, he’s a loving husband… until he grows up and find out that his mother died and his father didn’t even know she was dying and didn’t care enough about her to ask – how’s he gonna look at his father then, huh?

      Sorry, LB; if a marriage fails because two people just can’t make it work and they’ve run out of options, well, it happens; but when it fails because of a lack of communication? That’s unforgivable and inexcusable. But I guess this is what happens when “me” becomes more important than “us.”

      Like

      1. @ kdaddy, I didn’t even look into it like that. They way you broke it down was good. I think she was going to tell the husband that night, and when he came with the whole divorce thing, she just kept it to herself? She figured, he was leaving anyway and she would be dead, so maybe just live out the rest of her life for her son? Or shoot, maybe even for herself too. Maybe she needed to feel that love and or just be noticed again? She obviously, wanted to be held again. I mean, what would telling him do? Make hims stay or go? She probably wouldn’t want him to stay for pity reasons and wouldn’t want to make him run away even faster.

        Like

  1. I read that story last night on FB after my husband showed it to me. Wait lemme start over. He sat next to me reading the story on his phone while I was looking for recipes on my computer and then I heard “Oh shit!!!” quite loudly. So I kinda gave him a side eye cuz unless whatever he’s reading involves a family member of his dying, I personally thought that he was doing too much. So he says “Babe read this”….I obliged. I read it and had a blank face the entire time. Uh, I agree with Kdaddy. If she was sick all along, why in the hell didn’t she keep him abreast of her life-threatening illness? And as to him (the husband), things got a little dull…look at what he did for almost a month to get the spark back. Had he tried those things before? I just handed my hubby back his phone and sucked my teeth long and hard.

    Like

Talk to me!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s