Wednesday, May 18, 2011

A Letter From Me To You

Another week, another Indie Ink Writing Challenge. I challenged Amy to write about a different kind of courage and she has done an awesome job, go read it now.

Here is my response, the challenge I received is at the bottom of the post

Dearest husband,

Remember when we were kids, we would run and play on the streets all through summer? Remember the day I threw the ball into the crazy lady's house? I was shaking with fear when I saw her come out, red in the face, with my ball in her hand. I started crying, the way little girls do when they know someone was going to yell at them. You pushed me aside and told her that you threw the ball. You held your own for awhile, but soon realized that the only way to get my ball back was if you apologized. You did that and when you gave the ball back to me, you told me you would never let anyone make me cry.

I still remember our wedding like it happened yesterday. All the planning had come to a close, all the flowers were set up, the venue decorated and we felt like there was nothing left to do but get married. Then my cousin walked up to me, the bride, and made a rude remark about my weight. I barged into the groom quarters, with tears in my eyes. You wanted to beat up my cousin. I can still feel your palm in the small of my back and your other hand brushing my tears away. You told me that you would never let anyone make me cry.

In our first year of marriage, your parents visited us. I know your mother never liked me and I was determined to win her affection. I served a dinner that I slaved over for hours in the kitchen. Your father loved it, as did you. That night when I came to the kitchen to get a drink of water, I saw you sitting on the kitchen table, thumbing through a magazine while your mother talked about how you could have done so much better. You nodded absently, breaking my heart into a million pieces in the process. I forgot the water I had come down for and ran into our bedroom. You found me sobbing into the pillow an hour later and you were aghast. You thought you had forgotten an anniversary of some sort. When I told you why I was crying, your first instinct was to laugh at me. You spent the next hour explaining that your mother was just a crazy lady who didn't know the way to her son's heart. You said you never listened to most of what she said. You offered to make your parents leave our house that night but I refused to let you do that. You hugged me close that night and told me that you would never let anyone make me cry.

Two years back, you were out drinking with your buddies. You promised you would be back by ten. The clock struck two and you weren't home or picking up calls. I was worried sick and imagined you lying in a ditch somewhere. I thought maybe you didn't have a ride home and so I came searching for you in your favorite bar. You were fine - drunk to the gills and waiting on another drink. You yelled at me in front of everyone when I asked you to come home with me. Tears were streaming down my face when I drove back home, listening to the classic rock station on the radio. The next morning you brought me breakfast in bed, with a single red rose and said you loved me. I believed you. You told me that you would never let anyone make me cry.

The last two years have not been fun. We both seem to be growing in different directions. You have embraced your inner teenager and you think life is just one big party. Sure, I found your fun loving side an attractive quality when we were dating in college, but real life can can only take so much of that. When I asked you to pay attention to our bank accounts, you blew me a raspberry. When I insisted, you called me nag. That seems to be your favorite word for me, because you know I hate to be called one. I talked you into taking dance lessons with me, but you didn't turn up for even the first class. I have tried to do your thing, tried to come with you on your Friday night pub crawls. That's when I noticed you take off your wedding ring during these events. Seeing your naked finger was very hard for me. You took me aside and told me you loved me. I believe you.

Unfortunately love is not enough to keep a marriage alive. I think we need to separate, at least for sometime. By the time you find this letter, I will be at my parents' place. You will probably be shocked at this point, but honestly didn't you see it coming? You swatted me away whenever I wanted us to talk about our relationship and said counseling is for losers. What was I to do? I struggled with this decision, I really did. I made a promise to you, with God as my witness, to be with you for the rest of my life. But I realized that I had been crying myself to sleep, everyday for the last year. And you have broken your promise to me too. All my life you had been telling me that you would never let anyone make me cry. Don't you count as a person who makes me cry? Never is a promise and you can't afford to lie.



PS. In case anyone is wondering and for the family who reads my blog - this is a fictional piece.


This week's challenge comes from Seesaw. The challenge was:

Never is a promise and you can't afford to lie

I didn't know this was a song by Fiona Apple. The song is beautiful and I am listening to it on a loop now. Thanks for the challenge.


Caroline Gerardo said...

I'm happy it is fictional at the bottom note.
Wonderful storytelling, great visuals, and the repetition of crying at the end of each stanza- lovely

Bran said...

Hm. I kind of wish it was true--that woman had the courage to leave when so many don't.

janani said...

@Caroline - Thank you. I am glad you liked it.

@Bran - I understand what you say. I know some people who need to leave but they stay put. I like to believe that if something like this happens to me, I will up and leave.

FlamingNyx said...

Wonderful progression. a fictional piece that strikes a cord..

Seesaw said...

loved it! so real, great job :-)
and yes, I love that song too and was listening to it when I was trying to think up the challenge.

Dili said...

Really striking piece. Well done. :)

I completely echo Bran. Leaving is sometimes the hardest to do, and the most necessary

Stefan said...

Nicely done. I knew it was a fictional piece but the disclaimer at the bottom was probably necessary.

Once again, lovely writing my friend. You blended the narrative and emotion beautifully!

Random Girl said...

I love the story, the snapshots, you write each in their own order. This, although fiction for you, was almost biographical for me and it really touched me to hear my story told by someone who would have no idea of the truth it would hold. Very touching and well done!

Jason Hughes said...

The build-up is amazing! From the happy times right up until the end, I kept waiting for the happy ending--but real life usually doesn't have those either, does it? Wonderfully written!

janani said...

@FlamingNyx - Thank you

@Dili - Thank you. Divorce is not such a bad idea for some people.

@Stef - Thanks buddy, I am glad you liked it! Yes I didn't want someone calling my Mom asking if I was leaving my husband. lol!

@Random Girl - Wow, I have no words. While I was writing this, I kept imagining how I would feel if this happened to me and how I would react in this case. You are a really strong woman for doing what you did.

@Jason - Thank you. Yes, this is like a reverse Cinderella story. All the apologies and best intentions in the world mean squat if you don't do something about the problems.

Anonymous said...

Tragic yet beautiful...Very well written! Kudos :)

rahul aggarwal said...

i was so much into the blog that i never wanted it to end or end on a happier note but it didnt happen the way i thought...

loved every bit of it...

will subscribe to your blogs...

and thank goodness you made a note in the end that its a fiction!!!