"Look at Chad. He is on the dance floor, lonely. He looks very fresh. Why don't you dance with him?"
"Dance with Chad? What's next? You are too tired to have sex. Are you going to tell Chad to have sex with me for you?" Sara clenched her fists in frustration. This is the problem when you speak to drunken people. They lose the ability to reason normally.
"Um, no. I will not do that. Sara, I know you want to dance. I don't want to hold you back. Chad danced with you these past weeks when I get tired. Have fun, Sara. Don't worry about me." I couldn't wait for Sara to stop arguing with me.
"Uh, I hate you for being such a little girl. By the way, I will have sex with Chad tonight. Like it or not." Sara stormed off furious to the dance floor. She danced seductively with Chad.
Being trash-talked by Sara was no big deal, but the incident I couldn't tolerate occurred one Saturday night, 4 months into the relationship. Sara got too drunk that night, more than usual. Driving Sara and Gina back to Gina's apartment, she argued about me not dancing with her again. Dancing with Chad only calmed her down a bit. She accused me of not truly loving her. In the midst of Sara's complaint, she vomited all over my shirt and pants. Now, I am not a person who is really vain about having my clothes dirty. The smell of her breath and vomit was gross, but this incident reminded me of how much I detest drunken people and the problems that come with it.
Sara's drunkenness reminded me of the worst part of my childhood. During the weekends when I played video games in my room, my parents had very strong arguments in the kitchen. These strong arguments always occurred because my father got very drunk during the weekends. My father was an assertive, argumentative, and commanding person when he was sober, but when he was very drunk, his words toward my mother became poisonous. It always began with my father arguing about the food my mother cooked being awful, and how she couldn't do anything right. Slowly, he transitioned to complaining how my mother did not love him anymore. He implied she never really loved him. According to my father, the real reason she married him was for the money. He highlighted alleged past events where my mother cheated on him.
"Why don't you love me anymore?" My father asked.
"We are not young anymore. Who cares about this? This is the way life is." My mother responded. She had to stay there in the kitchen cleaning the dishes as my father ate and opened more beer cans.
"You are only here for the money."
"No. That is not the reason why I am here. I don't need your money. I am here because I love Jimmy, and my baby needs me. He needs us to be together. We have to help him grow up and become a good man. If we never had Jimmy, I would have gone back to Mexico where my family lives a long time ago."
"Yeah. That is not the only fucking reason you would go back to Mexico. You also would go back and catch up with your old boyfriends."
"Ha, ha. I never even had a real boyfriend before I met you. The closest to thing to a boyfriend was Alberto in high school. The only relationship Alberto and I had was sending love letters to each other. We didn't even go out on a date. You, on the other hand, had no shame. You danced with other women right in my face when we were at parties, and you were completely drunk."
"No. What are you talking about? That never happened. Those are jealous bitches tarnishing my name because I never paid any attention to them."
"Are you not listening? You did it right in front of me. I even left the parties because I was tired, and you continued to party without me.
"That shit, coming out of your mouth, is a lie. I don't know why you have such a big fucking mouth."
"Ah, well. I don't know why you complain so much about me. You had the chance to marry other women. They loved to have sex and were fun to dance with. Instead, you chose me. I don't know why. You complain the food is bad, and it tastes awful. Instead, you should be grateful. Nobody from the streets comes here to make you food. I am the one who cooks, cleans the dishes, cleans the house, does the laundry, gets you ready with all you need for work, and take care of our son."
"Oh, really? Well, the house isn't clean all the time. Almost every fucking day, I see dirty shit all over the place that needs to be cleaned. There are many days when the jackets aren't hung in the closet."
"Everyday? You are such a liar. Everyday? Maybe some days I am very tired, and I leave the jackets on the furniture. I clean the house every two days. You never praise me when everything is clean, you only complain every time I do something wrong. Something you never do. You complain, but you never do anything around the house."
"How fucking dare you say that? After all the shit I go through at work for 10 hours straight in the factory plus overtime. I suffer the excessive heat in there to give you everything that you need. Yet, you want me to clean the fucking house too. You unappreciative bitch."
"Unappreciative? You are the one who never appreciates the work I do or how well I take care of our son."
"Take care? Taking care of Jimmy is your job. You are the woman. You fucking overprotect the shit out of him. That is why he is so shy and so quiet. You never allow him to express himself. The same thing you do to me."
"I never allow you to talk. What do you call what you are doing now? Anyway, like I said before, you chose me because I was the good girl. You had your chance with other women that were fun like you. You chose me because I was a virgin and pure woman."
"Pure woman? That is a fucking joke. Who knows how many boyfriends you had before me?"
"I wish I had more boyfriends, but the one in high school, Alberto, were just love letters. And also, I had a crush on Fernando, someone who worked at the office I was secretary at. Unfortunately, he never said anything to me. We talked, but we never went beyond friendship."
"Fuck those guys. I remember when we were recently married. We went to Mexico to visit your family. The entire trip you ignored me. You even went out with your sister without me. Your brothers made fun of me for leaving me alone with them. Who knows what you were doing?"
"Oh. Now, I can't have fun with my very own family. I want to spend as much time with my family as I can. My brothers love me. They love to joke around. You have no sense of humor for someone who considers himself a very cool man."
"Those kinds of things happened when I was around. The other times you went with our son back to Mexico, who knows what you did then? I remember you used to tell the story of my son asking where you were?"
"Yeah. Your point is? It was hilarious, cute, and adorable when he was five. He asked my father, "Grandpa, where is Jimmy's mommy?" That was so funny because he is...Jimmy. He referred to himself in the third person. We laughed at how funny it was."
"Yeah. It was fucking funny. I know many coworkers whose wives cheat on them with other guys anywhere. Who knows where you were when my son asked for you? Probably, fucking a guy's brains out."
"How dare you? You are a piece of shit. I was at the dentist over there because it is cheaper than here in America. How fucking dare you question me when you know that you had me as a virgin."
"Virgin? Ha. I know many coworkers that found out their wives were cheating on them before they got married. Who knows?"
"What are you trying to say? Shit! You fucking son of a bitch, you are so full of shit. I thought my husband would appreciate me for being a virgin during our wedding night. You are a fucking asshole!"
"Whoa, whoa. Calm down. I was only talking about my coworkers. Stop being such a liar. I never said that."
"Shit! You know you fucking said it. You treat me like shit and expect me to still love you. You think you are the only who is allowed to get mad. You fucking son of a bitch, you are a piece of shit. I can get fucking mad too!"
"What is wrong with you? You are crazy. Trying to make up lies about me. I was talking about my coworkers. I can't talk anymore because you accuse me of things I never said."
"Yeah. Start acting like a stupid ass. You know what you fucking said. Now, I am the one who is fucking mad. I can say big fucking words too. That is why I fucking
hate you, and don't love you anymore. You are an unappreciative piece of shit. You never fucking appreciate the shit that I do here." My mother grabbed, threw, and broke a dish on the floor. She started bursting into tears. Everything got quiet with only the radio on. My mother walks off and slams the door to my parents' room.
My father spoke to himself as he continued to drink, "I don't understand that unappreciative bitch. That fucking bitch is crazy. Making up shit about stuff I never said. That bitch does not deserve me." Tears flowed from my face as I played video games in my room.
Seeing Sara that drunk brought back those dark memories of my past. These memories are too painful for me. The lack of respect and poisonous tone of their conversation made me sick. I didn't care that my parents were not a loving couple, but hearing those poisonous conversations every weekend bothered me. I resented the fact that my father loved to get drunk. It was my dream to see him stop drinking beer.
When I was a child, my mother sensed I was cold towards my father. "Jimmy, why aren't you so kind to your dad?" It was a question I was asked constantly. Most of the time, I pretended to act confused and gave no response. My mother insisted in questioning me, but I changed the subject and never answered.
One day, during my teenage years, I did respond. "I don't like when my dad gets drunk."
"Why?"
"He says mean things; the conversations you have are disgusting."
"Oh, that. Oh, my son. All couples argue. I am sorry. It just gets me mad when your father goes overboard when he is drunk, and I have to defend myself. Your father is only like that when he gets drunk. He doesn't really mean anything he says. Do you see him acting like that when he is sober? No. I usually let him talk when I was younger, but I don't have the same patience I used to have. I didn't know our arguing bothered you so much. I will try to ignore him and let him talk."
"No. That is not the problem. The problem is my father and his drinking. I don't like it when he tarnishes your reputation like that. I don't like the venomous tone he offends you with. I wish my father stops drinking."
"Oh, son. Your father is a good man. He only has a drinking addiction. Addiction is a disease. His body needs alcohol. You know he had a rough childhood growing up with his grandma. His grandma treated him very harshly. He was traumatized that his mom and his father never lived together with him. When he gets drunk, he gets into a mindset that all women are evil. He needs us to help him with his addiction."
"My father is never going to stop drinking. He always drinks. He is never going to stop. This problem will always exist."
"Your father loves you with all his heart. He only offends me. Don't worry. I am used to the way he is. The important thing is that he is the best father in the world."
"When he offends you, he offends me. Why did you get married?"
"Son. We were in love with each other. That is why we got married. You know, living together is difficult. I got to know your father more living together than from just dating. I didn't know about his drinking problem or his moodiness. He wasn't that argumentative when we were dating. It turned out we didn't like each other so much after marriage. Our lives changed when you came into our lives. You are the best thing to happen to us. We love you. Son. Do not be an ungrateful person with your father. If there is a reason I am still married to your father is because he loves you a lot. He is your life and has done everything in the world to give you all the toys, video games, private schools, and foods. He loves you very much. He told me to stop working so I can take care of you full time. When we didn't have a child for the first 5 years of marriage, your father would get so drunk that he would pretend to talk to an imaginary child. He would admonish the imaginary child for being naughty and misbehaving. He would burst into tears because he didn't have a son yet. Look Jimmy. There are other families where parents beat each other up in front of their children. That is something that never happens with your father and I. We argue a lot and there is a broken dish or two, but we never physically hurt each other. Son. I will try not to argue. I never knew our arguing tormented you. Love is not forever."
"That's not the problem. I don't care if you don't love each other. I don't like the poisonous tone your conversations take. That is never going to change. This will always be a problem. I don't like the disrespect. It bothers me the lack of respect for me. The both of you speak too loud, and it is hard to avoid what you say."
"My love, my son. Aren't you understanding? Love is not forever, and life is not perfect. Other children have to suffer through more pain. They witness their father beating their mothers with chairs, and they tell each other much worse things than your father and I. They have it worse than you do. You must understand and accept your father the way he is. He loves you with all of his heart. You are not being fair to your father. You are judging him too harshly. He has always loved you, and you know it. We both love you. Try not listening to us. Put the volume louder on the TV or something. That is why I am very grateful to have a husband who is the best father imaginable for my biggest love in my life, you."
I was forced to be satisfied with that explanation. Fortunately, as he got older, he started drinking less. Basically, health problems like high blood pressure and high cholesterol forced him to drink less as he aged. I never thought I'd be alive to see the day he didn't get drunk. It did arrive to my amazement, and I am glad that time arrived.
His drinking problem has left me with life lessons. Being an alcoholic can destroy the goodwill of your partner. It is a romance killer. Arguments of the magnitude of my parents will effectively destroy love, the fantasy Sara believes in. It is best to agree with everything she says, even if I disagree on the inside.
Because Sara's excessive drinking reminds me of my parents' dysfunctional marriage, I stopped accompanying Sara to the club. As expected, Sara wasn't too happy with my decision. She found my decision to be an overreaction. She only vomited once. This decision was a good remedy for my pains and aches.
"Jimmy. I can't believe you are not going to the club anymore. I said I was sorry. I got carried away with the drinking that night. I admit it, but your decision is too radical. I even cleaned your dirty clothes for you."
"I know it seems dramatic, but I think it is the right thing to do. You know I hate driving to begin with. My Saturday nights will be much less stressing." Personally, I didn't want to talk about my father's drinking with her. She would not understand anyway and complain about me being a spoiled brat who makes drama over nothing. I kept calm with brief reasons why I won't go dancing with her and weathered the storm of her frustrations.
"I still don't get it. You did kind of enjoy going out to dance. I saw the joy on your face. I know going to the club wasn't your favorite option, but you danced quite a while with me before you got tired. You have been driving well. Shouldn't you be used to driving by now? Are you going to let this little incident stop us from having fun together?"
"Look, Sara. This is the right decision for the moment. I know how you feel. You don't understand why I am making such a sudden decision, but I was holding you back anyway. You don't need me to party." Let's just say I was still embarrassed to tell her about my pains and aches considering my youth. Unfortunately, I am who I am. If I had admitted that I have pains from dancing, she would have made fun of me for being a spoiled brat. I continued to stick to these unsatisfying explanations as to why I was no longer dancing with her.
"Jimmy. What have you been doing all these weekends hanging out with Gina and my friends? Were you just pretending to have fun because I was your girlfriend?"
"No. It has been fun, Sara. I do love being around you, but I shouldn't be holding you back. You should have the freedom to be Sara." The truth is I enjoyed dancing with Sara because it is Sara, a beautiful woman I feel connected to. Sara's beauty gave me the energy to dance with her. That being said, I have gone out dancing with her many times. I think I gave her all she wanted. I knew she would be upset with my decision, but I didn't think it would end ou
r relationship.
"What do you mean holding me back? I never have said anything concerning that. You never hold me back. You are my boyfriend; the person I care about the most in my life. Having you around makes me happy. I don't understand what you are talking about."
"I don't know what else to say, Sara. My decision is final. I tried to explain why I won't go out dancing again, but you still don't understand me." I was very tired of arguing with her. I wanted this conversation to end.
"Jimmy, you are such a baby." Sara concluded the conversation in frustration.
After that uncomfortable incident, Sara had another upsetting moment at New Year's Eve. She wanted to spend New Year's Eve at Times square with all the people that reunite every year in New York. That was not my thing. I didn't want to do that. I had always spent my New Year's Eve with my parents. I did not want this past New Year's Eve to be any different because I am in a relationship now.
She was not too happy with my decision not to go with her. "Jimmy, what is up with you? We have been together for 6 months. It is like you don't want this relationship to succeed."
"Yes. I want this relationship to succeed. If I didn't want to be with you, why would I have bothered asking you out in the first place? I care about you, Sara. I am with you everyday. I can't believe you are going to get emotional over this too."
"Emotional? Hello! You are my boyfriend. I feel you haven't been acting like one."
"Sara. I give you kisses everyday. I hug you. We make love every night. I am not perfect, but I want to be with you. I don't want this to end." I extend my arms to hug her, but she pushes me away.
"Not now Jimmy. There is more to a relationship than hugs and kisses. I have been living together with you over the past 6 months. Yet, I feel like I don't really know you."
"Keep in mind that I do the clean the first floor every day. That should count for something. I do it because I always want to help you." As I said this, I knew that I was going to get a reprimand from her for always making house chores such a big achievement.
Life Ain't A Fairy Tale Page 8
