Valentine's Day Lament

An acquaintance of mine sent this to me and asked if I'd post it somewhere. It is sad that there are people in this situation anywhere, particularly on VD, but so it is.

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Once dearest one,

There was a time when we got along well, when I would do anything you asked, when I gave up all of my friends, hopes, dreams and aspirations because I thought you were my life partner, my friend and my loving support. There were times when I was sure we would be together forever and nothing could keep us apart.

Then things changed.

Somehow, somewhere along the way, "good" was no longer good enough for you. Buying what we wanted wasn't enough, we had to spend everything as quickly as possible because – well, I don't know why, exactly, but that is the reason we don't have a retirement account.

Somewhere along the way, what I wanted stopped mattering to you, and it became more important to you that you be right about everything than for us to be able to get along together. We even went through seven rounds of marriage counseling so you could get me fixed. You know why that didn't work? Because in the last go around on this matter, I figured out what you were doing.

Once, you seemed to care about me and my feelings. I remember, because I was crying about it, I think in the laundry room the apartment where you lived when I met you, and you didn't understand what was wrong. I suppose I should have realized it then, but it took me another decade or so.

There was a time when it seemed like I was the most important person in your life, and you certainly were in mine. I blew off my parents, my own family and a lot of other people who made indications that maybe things weren't all that perfect in "our town." I sure had enough chances to do that, and I fell into every last one of them. For you.

There was even a time when I could loan you money or have you hold it for me, and it would still be there when I needed it.

There was a time when you were nice to me, at least to my face, but somewhere along the way, you turned into a terrorist whose every demand had to be met or there was hell to pay, and I have paid by living in your hell for too long. Unlike the "real" terrorists, those suicide bombers who kill when they blow themselves up, when you blow up there's always more to come – unless and until you get what you want. Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead, cost be damned as well, and anyone who gets in your way..

It's too bad that, on this Valentines Day, 2010, I have to look back on those times and wonder where the hell they went. I know it wasn't me that turned away from you first, or decided that someone else was more important in my life than my spouse, or that you needed to sacrifice everything so I could accomplish any of my goals.

I'm not sure when it was, exactly, that your vision went from color and shades of gray to all black and white, so Bush-like in the distinctions of who stood where with whom.

It's sad because I honestly believed, through all our differences and our troubles, that we still had something of value, something to hold on to, something that would bring us together in the face of all adversity.

We could have gone anywhere, done anything, surmounted any obstacle, but we had to have an equal partnership, and that's something you no longer allow. Somewhere along the way, nothing I said mattered to you any more, and all you could see was what you want, what you need and how I wasn't important enough even to have a say in family decisions any more. I'm not even sure any more that we ever had anything like an equal partnership at all – you have to be in control and the center of everything, no holds barred, everything else be damned.

You claim that I control the money, but the truth is that you barely allow me any control at all, and I have to beg for house payment money or anything else that might help satisfy our legal obligations (debts), whereas all you have to do is raise the "it's for our kids" false flag and everything else is just deteriorating words, hurt feelings and your usual emotional blackmail.

I'm trying to remember a time in our relationship when I felt it was safe to be me, just me, and not some ideal image against which you always compared me, and I always failed. Now, I don't dare open my mouth because no matter what I say, it's bound to offend you. Gifts I give you are wasted – you either don't like them or you destroy them by neglect or outright damage.

I wish I could say something else, but frankly, that's the way I feel and think, now, and you've left me no choice and no other options.

You killed "us" before we even had a chance to be born, or grow, or blossom.

All you had to do was be an individual human being, but you had to be the dictator of all things in our lives.

Isn't it a pity? Isn't it a shame? Harrison got that part right, and he was married for life.