William and I adjusted to our lives Hong Kong. He was excited to be working with a director and crew he had worked with previously. I often joined William and his assistant for lunch. I liked her enormously. Maria was smart, calm and efficient. William counted on her and they had a good working relationship.
At one of our lunches, William quipped something and Maria laughed. He made another comment and they shared another laugh.
What's the joke? I asked.
He looked at me and answered, Oh, it doesn't matter...you wouldn't get it.
Try me.
It's okay, don’t worry about it.
After a few minutes, I glanced at my watch and said, Sorry, I have to run. I forgot I have an appointment with the tailor. See ya.
I bolted. Gou pi!
Later I confronted William.
You know that tailor appointment I had today?
Yeah?
I lied about that.
What do mean?
I had to get out of there.
Why?
That you wouldn't get it stuff . That was lousy. I felt like someone's clueless aunt. Like I was back in high school.
William looked like he'd been smacked. He looked way too shattered for the crime, if you ask me.
I really missed this one, Mel. I feel awful, I'm really, really sorry.
Yeah, I can see that. Okay. It's okay—
And he went on and on about how awful he felt. He berated himself over and over.
I spoke up. Hey, I'm the one who's hurt and you're taking that away by being more hurt.
And thus began a routine we would re-enact over the next few years. I'd call out a grievance. He'd be chagrined. Pained. Overwrought. Then I'd comfort him and wonder if I was overreacting.
William is a perfectionist. This makes him really good at his job...but sometimes difficult to live with. I'm a ruminator. This is handy as a writer...but sometimes difficult to live with because I can internalize everything then suddenly explode in an all-out attack.
We know we will wrestle with these issues our whole lives together. Knowing and doing are two different things — but at least we know.
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