I want to remember every last word that I muttered to myself so that I can tell her how I really feel - when the time is right. The time hasn’t been right all week… I haven’t slept all week – I gotta keep my mind fresh so I can give her a piece. Claire. Claire is always my toughest opponent, most of the time - usually by choice, I lose to Claire. Claire goes by another name …wife; I’ve been with her since our college days.
For most of those 10 years, I’ve given her everything that I could. Sacrifice was the name of the game and I not only played, I mastered. At times, I know she took advantage of me because she knows that I would bend over backwards to try to find solutions to everything – to satisfy her. Through years of observation, I have discovered that satisfaction is an impossible illusion. Sometimes, I lived life for her; those were the time that our relationship struggled. The most important asset of a successful relationship is having a life of your own, too.
It struggled – we struggled. We argued all the time. I hate arguing and would do almost anything to avoid it, so when I find myself in one, specifically with Claire, I simply sit back and let her scream. By not saying a word, I expose her lack of logic and intelligence. She thinks I’m quiet because she’s right – she’s wrong.
A line has to be drawn somewhere and it has to be visible – that was my problem. The line was invisible to her and blurry to me. Blurry to me because I changed so much for her, my approach, my standards, my expectations - my life; invisible to her because it was never enforced the way it should’ve been – that’s on me, but a line has to be drawn. Maybe I shouldn’t flip out like I planned; maybe it’s my fault for having these expectations. “When you have expectations, you will be disappointed,” that’s what they say right? But with no expectations, there are no standards and with no standards – you settle. I’d bury myself alive before settling.
On the other hand, maybe she needs to see me like this to really see that I’m not gonna take her shit anymore. She needs to see that I’m serious. I’m vexed – it’ll come to me as soon as she gets home. Time seems to be crawling. Its 2:30 AM and I can’t take it anymore. I need to take initiative – fuck philosophy, trust instinct, only instinct. When I call, I need to be assured that there’s barely a sign of agitation in my voice. I’ve never been one to show too much emotion- it hampers logic. “Yea, what’s up?” I asked. She replied, “Nothin’, still at the club with the girls, thinkin about leaving soon.” It was Sunday. I don’t know too many clubs open at 2:30 AM on Sundays I didn’t bother asking where it was, if she really wanted me to know – she’d let me know. I’ll play her game, “Sounds good. You havin’ fun?” “Yea, we always have fun. I’ll be headin’ home soon,” she said. “Cool, I’m just making sure you’re ok, I’ll see you later.” “All right, bye.”
I wondered if she expected me to go to sleep – to not stay up. She probably did – it was just in my nature to not worry too much – but that doesn’t mean I’m heartless.
The bright clips from ESPNews lit up my midnight black living room. I’m falling back on the NBA season; I gotta see what’s goin’ on – who is the next hot prospect. The kid from Kansas seems to be on the rise – I’d bet he’d make a good feature – probably a photo for the cover – I’ll mention it tomorrow. Subscriptions are skyrocketing again and we’re now competing with two other publications for the top spot in the nation. My professional life couldn’t be much better now, if only my personal life was in sync with that I’d be the most successful man on Earth – because I’d be happy. But happiness is damned near impossible to achieve. I have to play with the cards that I’m dealt.
It goes like this: in the professional world, eliminating emotions as the middle man works great. In the personal world, too little emotion will lead to your personal demise whereas showing too much emotion shares the same fate. Life is a chess game played with guns, knives, and hearts.
I zone out. It’s now 3:23. No missed phone calls. The feeling of zoning out is euphoric – it calls me to escape the madness. That madness is called ambition, the ambition for perfection – call it impossible- mental slavery if you will, but when I achieve – a link of the chain breaks, I’m now one step closer to becoming free.
Ambition leads me to doing…unorthodox practices. In the office, I set an example of how employees should not only work but how they should look. I recommend that employees workout five to seven days a week, sometimes twice a day. I stick to the regimen faithfully. It’s mostly, cardio and conditioning, I’ve never been a fan of the excess bulkiness, I lived through the “performance enhancing” era - never found it appealing. I eat red meat three times a week, starch with every meal, and protein everyday. But before you call me names, understand that I’m not a health freak – I moderate. I eat an ice cream sandwich on Saturdays and occasionally fry my chicken and order out. My favorite spot to order serves international cuisine- Banzai’s. I always order a Boston roll and a Shrimp Tempura roll to compliment it. Hold the wasabi, ginger, and soy sauce – seaweed wrapped. Steamed Chicken with broccoli is a close second.
A typical day starts when I wake up, I shower. A typical day ends before I go to sleep, I shower. I wash my body with a lemon zest exfoliating scrub gel. I exfoliate my face twice a day, too. When I’m done exfoliating, I apply a scentless all purpose moisturizer – one for the face, the other for the body. I get a hair cut every Tuesday – 1 ½ inch blade – if not than at least a shape up. A tie everyday to work, employees must do the same, if not a tie than a sweater, shoes or all black boots when it snows is a must. The women need to be dressed in business attire, too. Hair, never sloppy and as little make up as possible. If you’re ugly…at least dress nice.
Its 3:41. I begin a set of 20 diamond push-ups -inclined of course. I let out grunts for breaths as every rep is completed its past 3 am and I haven’t been getting sleep – I’m aggressive. It’s harder to go at a slow pace when you work out so I usually prefer it, but this is special. I’m as aggressive as a punch drunk raging bull…I see red. I pick up my pace, lifting myself off of the floor with every rep until I’m done. Immediately following the set of push ups, I lie on the carpet and squeeze my toes under my couch and proceed to my crunches: five to the left side, five to the center, and five to the right, 10 to the left, center, and right, 15 to the left, center, and right. I’m straining, sweating, panting - relieved.
Time to cool off, I’m still burning up from the disrespect that Claire has shown me. I told my good friend Anthony about my situation – just about the adjustments that need to be made if she and I were to remain together. I’m tired of being a pushover because that’s not how I am at all – I just do whatever I possible can, but when someone takes advantage, consequences follow. Maybe that’s my problem – do I try to hard to satisfy her? He agreed with where I stand, I bust my ass for her, especially emotionally in my relationship it seems like it’s nothing to her – as if we’ve been dating for six months – that’s not the case – this is 10 years. 10 god damned years. I refuse to play fool for too much longer and therefore, emotionally, I withdraw instead of speaking. Could it be that she doesn’t notice what she does? That’s not excuse, and its cliché. She’s going on 31 – I’m not dumb, nor am I blind although I feel like my sight has been regained. Everyone close to me says it; everything from “I’m too good for her; I put in too much effort.” I’m starting to think that they’re right.
Another set of yearns my presence, I obey the call. Keeping my composure has always been a habit of mine but as pushed and sat up, composure was long gone. 20 became 40 and those 90 sit-ups became 180. I lay out, breathing hard, sweat covered my naked torso. I ran to the bathroom and began vomit. My late night workout was complete.
Tomorrow is Monday and I don’t have the day off, I rarely do – she has about a week off. I’m still waiting up- no missed calls. It’s 4:15 AM and a rum and coke on the rocks now sings my name. The occasional drink or two is part of my regimen and this time is no different. In fact, the drink and I became one. The ice that clanked on my wine glass represented my ice-cold attitude – blistering, numb, and piercing. The rum is my demeanor, smooth, relaxing – euphoria. A place I need to visit as I eye my “lazyboy”. I take a sip, a deep breath, and recline. Before I zone out again, I set my alarm for 5:00 AM, if she’s not home by then – I’ll call to make sure she’s all right.
The slightest thought of her infiltrates my zone. All I could think about is how this situation is going to play out. I hope for the best but I know how stubborn she is – she’s in for a surprise. Still zoning, I’m numb to the outside horrors of the world- until my phone vibrates. I quickly awoke, it was just my alarm. It’s 5:00 AM – the time I usually wake up anyway. I call- utterly surprised by the content of our conversation. “You’re alive?” I asked in a very monotone pitch, she sarcastically responded “Yes baby.” “Are you coming home today?” I asked. She raised her voice, “Yes! Where else would I be going!?”
“Composure,” I whispered to myself. I reply calmly - even when I’m being the biggest asshole in the world, “I don’t know what you might have planned. Its 5 AM, I just want to make sure that you’re safe.”
“We’re getting breakfast, I’ll be getting home soon, bye.”
A blank stare into black – becomes my zone. She hung up on me! That little bitch. I am fuming – gripping my phone like a snake does it’s pray when I closed it. I thought I was doing the right thing by never responding – scooping to a different level, but for her to disrespect me like that…didn’t sit too well with me – she must think that she can run all over me – she’s in for a surprise.
I continue to recline and have 2 more rum and cokes. It was then, at an emotional rock bottom that I realized – I need a break…from everything and called in sick to work. I was no longer planning a sit down, peaceful convo. with her, I was brainstorming the demise to a 10-year foundation.
Part of me, a big part, wanted to pack her bags for her…and watch as they burn where they will be collecting the trash in a few minutes. But we’ll see how it is when she gets here. Once a nice guy, always a nice guy, unfortunately. I finished my last rum and coke, cleaned up a little bit and went to sleep as the room began to spin. I’m awaken shortly thereafter by the twisting of a key in my door. Everything became still, even the room, my adrenaline rushed and butterflies crawled an obstacle course in my stomach.
It s 6:13 AM.
crazy ho
