Beside Him - FICTION (i think)
I lay there remembering what it was like to be beside him. Under the covers with his heat generating more than just a warm sensation. I wish I could forget what it was like because I miss it so much. I think that I just miss the company and not him. Just like I am now, I have thought over and over again why I don’t want him. I don’t want him. I don’t want him…
He was the quiet type. Very friendly—yet reserved. When we were alone, I discovered he actually had a brain with mature thoughts. As a Catholic school boy, he was adamantly against oppressors and brainwashing. Apparently they train you to follow and he didn’t want to be a part of it any more. He read Heinlein and listened to Pink Floyd who taught him to be free. His inner rebellion with the world’s dictatorship made him unique. I liked him a lot.
He frustrated me sometimes though. “What do you ant to do?”
“I don’t care.”
“What do you feel like having to eat?”
“Whatever.”
A person can play 20 questions for only so long. Over time I assumed he meant it when he said “whatever” and “I don’t care.” If he wanted something else I expected that he had the gumption to get it.
He hated to see his dad. Totally whooped by his mama. But I saw it in him too. He let her rule over his life and said that he would tolerate it just long enough to get her to pay for school. I thought that it made some sense, but if he had as much of a problem with her as he claimed, he shouldn’t have to tolerate it. She was boss and they submitted. He figured he would be free later, but his dad could never be free so that is what made him different and doing the right thing for himself. And I didn’t even think much of it until she had him question his relationship with me.
“Do you plan on marrying her?”
“No.”
“So why lead her on and date her for as long as you have so that it will lead to nothing?”
He said nothing. And as much as I could have hated her, it was the best thing she could have done for us.
My ultimate goal in life is to settle down in about ten years and have children, then write. That is what I wanted to do and he knew it. But he was lonely and I was convenient so I was his girlfriend. But then I became inconvenient at this point when he realized he couldn’t lie forever.
He began to realize that over time I began to take advantage of him and try to tell him what to do. I was an evil oppressor, just like his mother. He would not permit having such an awful person as his girlfriend—he may become just like his dad…
A year and a half after we met and fell in love, I broke up with him. Nothing apparently was wrong between us, but I knew there was something wrong. He was withdrawn and sad. It had to be me. Though I sound conceited, I knew that it was. He didn’t have the balls to do it. I had to. Not because I wanted to, but because he did.
We were still in love, soon thereafter, but sometimes that isn’t enough. I was oppressing him and demanding something of him (unknown to myself) and he wanted out of the responsibility of being in a relationship, though wanted convenience of companionship. I took care of him and he depended on me: for his identity and motivation.
I couldn’t help but notice that I was this crazy bitch to him, when all I did was think and function for myself. Why was it my responsibility to make sure his every right was answered for? Should that not be his responsibility? If he didn’t want to do something, he should have said so, right? Or if he disagreed, he should have said so, correct? You would think so, but he said nothing.
He sacrificed his self respect and self dignity to avoid conflict. He figured that since there was no legal commitment to me, then there was no problem. He could toss me away as soon as I become troublesome, and get someone new. Well, I didn’t want to make it that easy.
“I am your ex-girlfriend. Nothing will change that. I can never be anything else. That is who I am, I am going nowhere. You can’t ignore our problems. Talk to me. I don’t care that we are broken-up—in fact, I’m glad that we did. I just want you to talk!” I begged and pleaded with him, to communicate with me. He wouldn’t. He preferred not to fight and left me standing, with assumptions, miscommunications, and misconceptions.
At that point I had so much to tell him, and say to him, but he refused to listen. I found my self being a hypocrite, just to see that he wouldn’t tell me I was stupid. I would talk to him, just to see he would be cold and cruel. I found if difficult to believe that a person could be so close to you for years, and then drop you. I did my share of recovering and being over-emotional and crazy. And this may be his way, but at least I asked him to be there for me. He never did that. The difference between he and I is that I would have obliged.
I feel like no justice has been done. I don’t think he should be allowed to be able to drop me like he did and get no repercussions. How can I feel so much, and he nothing. Well, though I hate to admit it, I think he feels something; but he needs to confront me, and have the balls to talk to me, or this will happen over and over and over again.
He will go out with a girl and admit no preferences about anything. He will die before having conflict with her. He will pass off his displeasure as something he absolutely must endure to be in a relationship no matter how harsh. And he will discard anyone who becomes too used to the idea of having him around, then he will restart the cycle. The poor son of a bitch will never be happy with anyone. He can’t possibly be happy with himself. And he probably knows it, yet refuses to confront it because that will induce internal conflict.
As he carries on his daily personal relationships, he is everything he hates about being the victim. It seems as though he is a commoner in a time of repression who needs to rebel against his government for justice, yet just sits on his ass and hopes it will be over soon. He thinks that it is to his advantage to do nothing. He thinks that because it is not blatant by a governing body that it is not worth the effort. I shouldn’t be with such a mindless weakling; he can’t think for himself nor can he function without someone to lead the way. What a hypocrite.