nothing
I want to be on my own. I used to like it; it was enjoyable. I had my time, my space, my privacy and I miss all of that. I am feeling so uncomfortable that nothing that can be said or done at this moment is going to fix anything. I see myself away, by myself, dong my own thing and dependant on no one.
I can’t do a single thing. Nothing. If I take too long in the bathroom; if I don’t immediately leave the bedroom after a shower; if I simply go out from the living room into my office… Anything will be questioned. Where are you going? Why are you putting on make up? Why are you there? Who are you talking to? Why did you come get your phone?
He’ll knock. He’ll stand outside the door. He will lower the volume to the tv. He’ll be waiting for me to just show my face so that he can question me again. If I say that I need my space he’ll ask why. If I say that it’s nothing, he’ll ask me again what is wrong. If I say that I am going nowhere… because obviously I never go anywhere, he’ll ask why then I have my phone. I don’t even get phone calls… I have the stupid cell phone in case I ever need anything when I am outside, on my own… But I am never outside on my own.
If I put on cream, Don’t I don’t like it. If I wash myself with honey, I don’t like honey. If I want to buy make up, Why? You have already. If I want to do something new, No, I’m tired. If I feel like crying, What’s going on? Mi vida. Mi vida. Why? Why?
I can’t stop my tears right now… I don’t know what is wrong. I can’t sleep anymore. Everything feels uncomfortable. I toss and I turn and I just stare at the ceiling. And I want to just go watch tv at night, on my own. And fall asleep on the couch, on my own… and I can’t. Because he gets angry. Because if I want to tell him how I feel, he gets annoyed.
Because I cannot be honest or he’ll get hurt. And I don’t know what to do.
I want my house clean. I hate my dirty house. I clean and I clean and I mop and vacuum and try to make things that are pretty… but it’s no use.
Nothing I do is ever right. Nothing I make. And I wish I could hear nice things. And I wish I could just disappear.
I wish I could just sleep. I awnt to sleep. And I wan tto be away. By myself. And don’t wna tto hold anyone back and that he could go back to new york and never have left his awesome job with his huge office and his top view and that oak desk that is double the size of our dining table. With that cappuccino machine and his leather chair and the big 21 inch flap panel and the new computer every month. Sothat he could be making 100 thousand and not what he’s doing down here with me. So that his parents wouldn’t be anfry with him and his sister would not have met me and not dislike me. andi would bein mexico. or venezuela where i have alwasy wanted to be. and we'ld call each other and be happy like that. and i wouldn't be wasting myself like this. and he'd call me everyday and tell me how beautiful i am and how much he loves me. and tell me about how he would love my little blue pants and my little shirt with the butterfly and the blue eyeshadow and my pretty eyes... andthen i wouldn't cry on my own like right now and i'd vfeel special . and i woul dthen be smart and i would no tie anyone down. and then i could sleep. he'd talk until i slept and wed behapy. and iwouldn't feel like i had watsted so much time and i'd have a real job an good gjob and iwoul dbe on my own. and he'd behppy and i would be happy. and his family wouldn't hate me for not learning their language and udnerstanding their culture. and they woul dhave this perfect idea of me like they used to. like when they liked me because i was pretty in a picture and i had tha fair skin they like so much and my very long and balck hair and i was small and thing and smart not like now that they say ai am so far and so rude and i don't talk to them and i can't talk to them because, i do't understand. i feel iuncomfortable because of those long puases whenthey dont' know what to tell me and no matter how i try they still only pretned to smile and they just want to talk to him. so now i don't even talk anymore and it only makes thinngs worse because now i am uncaring and cold and rude and i took their son away and made him go to some unknown town and ruin his career and his education was for nothing. because he would hbe a phd now and be working in some prestigious unversity and probably have married one of the many girls that they had been looking at. one that udnerstood all of them and knew how to cook and how to entertain them an d praise them and their sone. an d like that we wouuldn't fight. because i would understand it all and i'd be on my own. sleepin gon my couch wearing my heels and brushing my hair and i'd go to the theatre again. i woul dlike my job. be the best again like i alwasy was and i'd have my space and i would not feel angry at beign touched and i'd be fine and he would just call me and tell me he cared and i could sleep
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