Rends: Straitjacketed Love

(this entry is the product of an ongoing conversation with the lovely ChristineChristine reviewsChristine reviews).

A lighter ignites the sound of an inhale which gives fire the desire to change frames of mind from life to ashes. He asks as he pulls away, and an overhanging bulb sways shining brightly a spot of rays down upon my frame, “Where were you the night of the twenty-third?” Smoke escapes my parted lips, as I’m leaned back in a chair elbow propping and holding my body from sliding upon the right armrest suggesting a relaxed position … I exhale, “Before or after midnight?” “After.” “With my lover.” “Where were you before?” I exhale, “With my lover.” “Then why did you ask for clarity?” “Either I’m speaking of two different people, or am amusing myself with you. Take your pick.” “We are not here to play games with you Mr. –.”

My identity is striken from his lips, and words fall short as if he has no clue who the fuck he’s dealing with. Clearly, he doesn’t. “Surely you don’t expect me to tolerate this or you without some form of entertainment”, I chuckle softly. “You can laugh all the way to a cell if that’s how you want to play it.” “On the grounds that I found you to be a clown? You must be mad.” Fearlessly, I called his bluff. “I know your type. The kind that masks his insecurities with humor.” “Subject a lesser man to your premature psycho-analysis. There are significantly more possibilities than your egotistical mind is allowing you to perceive at this time.”

His partner approaches him and whispers into his ear.

“Where were the two of you?” “In bed.” “All night?” “Probably, we tend to fuck a lot and between her wearing me out and rendering me unconscious I do not recall.” I pause and then continue, “Oh yes we were at a formal social and gallery viewing before. We managed to escape all of the elbow-rubbing long enough to have a quick fuck in the women’s washroom.” “Were there many in attendance?” “In the washroom? Only a few. I think they were enjoying it as they listened in. How about you?” “I meant at the event.” “I know, get a clue. Though to tell you the truth I was oblivious most of the time, as her accessory I didn’t pay her peers much mind. Though I imagine, yes.” “Do you suggest that such an alibi would hold up?” “Then that suggests you don’t know who she is.”

His partner whispers again.

“Tell me, how are things at home?” “My personal affairs are none of your concern.” “Does your wife know about your mistress, and vice-versa?” He gets my complete attention, not to mention I’m highly irked. He can see my discomfort and asks, “Did I hit a nerve?” “Men must learn now with pity to dispense, for policy sits above conscience.” He looks at his partner and says, “Can you believe this guy? Getting all Shakespearean.” His partner says, “I think that’s Timon of Athens[R].” I nod politely, sincerely. The interrogating officer says, “Was that supposed to be a threat?” “No, a warning and promise. Though I’ll elaborate more clearly. Not even Shakespeare himself could weave a story so tragic as the fate which would befall upon you if you continue to test my patience.”

His partner steps back.

“Oh I get it, you’re the provoking detective and he’s the lie detector. So while you get me to talk, he’s watching my reactions and telling you the next action, since you’re too close to notice. I like this dance. Let’s do it. Continue, please.” “You find this funny?” “Very. Can you not see the smile on my face? Should I show some teeth?” “You are wasting our time.” “You have that confused. See because I came here of my own accord, and can easily walk out that door. You would not be able to stop me. So get it straight, you are on my time … not the other way around, and I will do whatever I desire with my time. Maybe in the process you’ll get what you seek. Do you get me?”

Steaming he gets up, and his partner takes the forefront. “Prasand, you don’t mind if I call you Prasand do you?” “Not at all, I appreciate your presence.” “Thank you Prasand. While we are greatful for you coming in, we’re trying to solve a case … can you please be more cooperative?” “For you, yes. What would you like to know?” “Then let’s go back. Did your mistress know about your wife?” “I’ll let that slide only once, please do not use that word again … my bias finds it to be demeaning.” “Is she not your woman on the side?” “She’s primary, always.” “So you’d say things at home weren’t that great?” “Yes, but things at home are fine.” “What do you mean?” “Are you married?”

“Yes.”

“Actually, you wouldn’t be a good example. From your stature I can tell things at home are pleasant. So instead let’s take your partner for example. He goes home to his wife. Does she greet him like she used to? Does she kiss or touch him the same?” “No.” “Due to the state of relationships, the reality is women seek and enjoy titles. They find a false sense of security in those words. There was a time when it truly meant something. However, our society has devalued it. Like money which is nothing more than a piece of paper without any actual backing. Then with the advent of social independence, when a woman is secure she no longer finds the need to try as much. It’s the same with men, which leads to the death of passion. Then when the passion dies, and she’s no longer blind … she starts to see problems that she might not have noticed before. They become issues, but are only so in her mind.”

I exhale, “It’s reality, and I’m fine with that.”

“So you and your wife fought?” “Yes, but fighting isn’t necessarily bad. It can help relationships in many ways, but only if the two can get past it. Her extreme ego prevented that, due to her personal insecurities … her world which I was not privy. She coveted her identity and hid herself even from me, and stopped being a lover after we were married.” “Then why did you marry her?” “Because I was madly in love, and while I wasn’t blind to the reality I accepted her unlike her rejection of me. However, time makes the mind weary.” “Was she violent?” I laugh, “Imagine that. Even with her ego she’s not brave enough to truly fight me. Instead she shuts down, and bottles up.”

I pause … then continue, “I’m a very communicative and open man. Especially when I’m in a relationship. However, the truth can be harsh when one wants to believe in a dream. I can’t force her to let me in. Trust me, I’ve tried. I can only reassure her, support her, be loving and maybe she will deem me worthy enough … but she coveted her pain too much. She wasn’t understanding enough. She kept us separate even when we were together. Then, I met my lover.” “So you told your wife about her?” “Of course.” “How did she take that?” “Not very well to say the least. However, I will not hide myself from nor lie to the woman I gave myself to completely. Her doing so does not justify me doing the same. She always had a problem with the truth. Then again, most people do.”

“So tell me about your lover. Did she know of your wife?” “Of course.” “How did she take it?” “Like a lover would.” “Please elaborate.” “Social misconceptions, impulsive voraciousness, and individuality (egoEgo reviewsEgo reviews) lead to the dilution of values. People have their own perception of words, and as such they lose their meaning. Before you know it, getting married will be the new fad because being a ‘boyfriend’ or ‘girlfriend’ won’t be potent enough to control or satiate the increasing insecurities. While that might be the case, there are a few things which may never change. Words like ‘lover’. Many associate lover with sex. However, that’s a misconception.”

He lights another cigarette for me.

I exhale, “In most other countries besides the United States. Lover is a term which does not denote copulation, but is indicative of the relationship. In Japan for example, your girlfriend is your lover. They don’t use ‘girlfriend’ or ‘boyfriend’ they say lover. However, it’s not a casual relationship like in the United States. The culture promotes true intimacy. Since they are socially reserved, they understand that one must express or share those things with someone. So they don’t have it confused, sharing excessively with friends … who replace the roles of lovers or are lovers without that identity. In Japan, young lovers may exchange a diary. Writing their feelings and thoughts inside, then the next day they give it to the other person … so that they can do the same. It’s in those moments where they are able to convey the things they may not be able say to verbally.”

I exhale, “It’s a great relationship and communication builder. However, it’s only something done with a person who you deem to be a lover. Two virgins can be lovers if the emotion is there. Even in the United States that is the case. There is a reason why men do not casually use the term lover. Some would say it’s unmanly, but the reality is that it’s uncomfortable to say it casually for a reason. While the listeners may just assume ’sex’, the speaker tends to truly feel that term. Think about it. You hear lover, you think ’sex’ … but say lover, do you feel ’sex’? Say, ’she is my lover.’ How does that feel?” “Sincere.” “Women are more prone to use it, but even they don’t since it’s not matched by the other. Lovers are those that share, understand, and are supportive of one another. In order to be those things one must be able to look beyond themselves. People do not know how to be lovers because they are too busy thinking of themselves. They justify excuses, games, and the like to deny the person they love … while claiming to love them.”

“So what you’re saying is, she’s not the type to get jealous because she’s understanding.” “Yes, but not exactly. Insecurity is part of life. Even the most secure person has doubts from time to time. The only thing that’s required of a lover is that they at least try to be understanding. However, she secure and never gets jealous when it comes to me. She’s territorial though. Only because that’s natural. So she in a sense, marks me with her scent. She’s very sexual by nature, a borderline nympho … and because of that, I’m understanding that due to our lives at times she has desires that I cannot always appease. So she sleeps with others, and that’s fine … because she never truly gives herself to another. I’m the only man she’ll allow bare inside of her, or will let cum inside of her. I’m the only man she deems ‘worthy’ enough to breed with.”

“But the two of you have no children?” “We do not.” “Don’t you fuck like rabbits?” *laughs*, “Yes. That may even be an understatement. She tends to get extremely horny when she’s ovulating, where only I can satiate her desires. We probably should have little village by by now.” I laugh, he laughs. I continue, “She happens to be on the pill, because it regulates her period. As such, it’s convenient especially since she doesn’t really want children. However, she will not deny me.” “Do the two of you ever fight?” “Sometimes.” “Does she get violent?” “Sometimes, but we quickly get over it.” “Does she ever get violent enough that she’d do something to your wife in retaliation?” “Ehhhhhh. Yeah, she’d stab a nun … but she’d tell me and we’d laugh about it together afterward.” “Has she ever told you of any interaction with your wife?” “No. She finds my wife to be too insignificant to truly acknowledge.”

“Do you think she ever has, even though she hasn’t said anything?” “No, I don’t doubt her even slightly.” “Would you ever ask her?” “No, not even if you asked me to. I will not doubt her even slightly … ever.” “But it wouldn’t be doubt, you’d just be fulfilling a request.” “I’m not a man that can really be convinced nor talked into action. If you really want to know, ask my wife.” “She’s dead.” “Oh, my bad. So that’s why I was asked to come in?” I laugh. “Didn’t they tell you?” “I think they might’ve but I didn’t really pay attention. I knew it was for something to do with a murder, but figured it had nothing really to do with me or I would’ve been taken in handcuffs.” “You’re seemingly indifferent to be just finding out your wife died.” “Oh, I’ve already come to terms with her death awhile ago. The more one alienates their lover, the more their status as lovers is erased or dies. It was heart-wrenching, torturous even … felt like I was dying. However, I realized it never really existed to begin with. I mean, the emotion was there … definitely. The passion and desire also … intensely. However, it was like being married to a stranger. I don’t think a wife is any less important. If anything she is more. However, a wife who’s not a lover is like a girlfriend without a relationship.”

“Damn, you’re cold.”

“Really? Blar. People want roles, positions but they do not accept the responsibility that comes with them. Every role comes with one. You as a husband have a job, and that’s to be a husband and everything it entails. If you aren’t doing your job, you probably will be replaced. You can argue states of infidelity, saying it’s her fault blaming others but the reality is … if you did not leave room for another man to maneuver you probably wouldn’t have been cheated on. So do your job, or get fired. It’s simple. Those who try to be independent die alone. It’s the reality she wanted and created. At times I wish it wasn’t that way, but it actually is. It was her fate sooner or later if she didn’t change. She wanted to be alone, even in our home. I wasn’t initially accepting of that. Then I realized her desires, and gave her what she wanted irrespective of my desires. An act of love, to overcome oneself for love. What I wanted didn’t matter. I gave her everything I was with little hesitation, and no regrets. Even if it only makes sense to me, a lover to the end.”

- Prasand J.

Do you accept your responsibility as a lover, to please those you love?
Or do you please yourself, only loving them when it’s convenient?
Can you give yourself and love … truly?