My Bears lost the Superbowl last night. I'm so depressed. I can't even say that Indy won it, because the Bears had a lot of great chances they didn't capitalize on and they made several stupid mistakes. They definitely LOST the game. The fist visit to the Superbowl in twenty-one years and they LOST it! I slept in my Urlacher jersey last night... you know how when you break up with a guy so you wear his clothes because it makes you feel both better and worse? That's what it was like. *sigh* Now there's no more football until September...
Below I am posting part two of my essay. The responses to the first part were favorable (thanks Sue and Shari), so I'm going to continue with it. I think the Disney metaphor gets a bit stretched here, but see what you think. It's just a draft, remember!
Also, if you get a chance, check out postsecret this week. There is a postcard about a wedding that sounds just like something my ex-best friend would have written. Can you guess which one it is?
~Amalia~
I was soon to learn that his looks were the only charming part about him. He was a master of the verbal put down, of condescension and derision. Truly, he was Gaston, Druesella, Anastasia and Millificent put together. Cocky and arrogant but also convinced of how wonderful he was. He convinced me after a while that I was lucky to have him, being the dowdy girl I was. It was four years before I came to the conclusion that while I didn’t have to have the love a Disney Princess was entitled to, I was in fact entitled to more than I was getting from
Free for the first time as an adult, I told myself that I must be thankful for what lessons I had learned – the most important one being that there is no such thing as a one true love.
At the start of my second year of college, I met Dan. I was very careful never to promise him forever or to say that he was “the One.” I know he was offended by that, but I knew better; I couldn’t just say words that weren’t true. Dan helped me realize what a bum deal Cinderella and Snow White got. Dan worked for the first fourteen months we were together. After that he developed a chronic medical condition that kept him from working. He couldn’t stand or sit very long comfortably, so he took a lot of pain killers and played video games for the next four years. As a senior in college, I was student teaching and working two jobs to pay the bills and keep him supplied in video games. I cooked, cleaned, washed his clothes and stayed out of his way when he was “having a bad day.” It never occurred to me to object, because how can you argue with someone who’s sick? I tried not to resent him for getting all of the meds and toys that he wanted while I was still wearing clothes from high school because I couldn’t afford anything new. Dan could be sweet, but he could also have black moods that would cast a pall over everything around. When Dan was upset, the whole sky seemed darker, and even the walls seemed to be holding their breaths, waiting for the inevitable explosion to come. I never asked to go to the ball, I wouldn’t dream of sticking up for myself like Cinderella did. I kept the house as clean as I could on eighty hour weeks, doing laundry and dishes whenever I had a spare moment, usually with a textbook or lesson plan in my hands. I definitely did not whistle while I worked like Snow White did. I swear all seven of the dwarves couldn’t have been more difficult than one Dan.
After five years of being the poor, underappreciated, misunderstood heroine I left Dan. I knew no one was going to rescue me, that I’d stay the maid/depressed maiden forever if I didn’t leave.
After two failed relationships, I returned to the stories of my childhood searching for answers. Where did I go wrong?
2 comments:
You did not "go wrong," it's the duds that "go wrong."
My ex worked, too. As long as he worked on his own without a boss over his shoulder. He worked the 18 months that we dated. Then he got the opportunity to subcontract with a cable company in Milwuakee (one hour drive one way) and he needed machines. Stupidly, trustingly, I got loans for a tractor and a bob-cat (forklift truck). I had two gas cards and got duplicates so he could get gas. He hired two other guys to help cover the trenches (basically he was covering the holes left by the cable guys) and following them. That was how our marriage started. Three months later, he was fed up. He quit. He was not working. I had gotten bumped from my job and had to take a two dollar cut in pay (factory union thing-you get bumped when other jobs in the factory get elimated). I had to come up with money to pay for all the loans and credit on top of the rent and utilities. We ended up staying with my parents for one year while I struggled to catch up with the bills. He was terrible to live with. Six months later, he got back into trucking. He hated it when we had no money. He'd write checks and didn't care if they bounced. Then I was running around trying to pay for the NSF fees (both bank and the place the checks were written to). I had to call the bank and have them close our joint account and created one in my own name. I became an "enabler." I had a co-dependency thing.
To cut a long story short, he drank and he womanized. I was done. How could he take care of me if it came down to it (about my Usher condition)?
I was a Disney fan, too. I believed in "happily ever after," too. I am sure many girls do. (Men dream of perfect wives who can cook and clean and keep kids quiet and accommodate their every need and women think men will protect them, have a stable job, share the housework duties, and help rear children.) Marriage is a two way street. It takes two to tango. You have to compromise and it's constant work.
I am remarried now, and though it's not a bed of roses, it's better, financially and stable.
Ok, I have to admit that I was never the happily ever after girl. I was too busy climbing trees, playing basektball, and doing other very not princess-like things. This is not to say that I didn't want a happy ending when it came to my relationships, I did, but I tend to chose the tyoe if guys who were just there. Nothing more, nothing less. Until Dion and I decided to date after 4 years of friendship. It was in this relationship that I learned that marriage is not a 50/50 thing. It is 100/100. Each person should be giving 100% of themselves, not 50%.
So there you go, a little bit of what life has taught me. Loving your story, by the way. Word Vert:
magig
How a pre-schooler says "magic"
Post a Comment