Sitting on the bed in my lovely Los Angeles apartment, on hiatus from a decent job as an acting coach on a television series, I relished my independent life with my choices and responsibilities mine alone. Then why did it bug me that William cringed at the idea of marriage? That should thrill me, not kill me.
And I put up a darn good disguise. I was two-faced about the issue. Before William left for Europe, we had a dinner conversation where I mentioned that our crosstown commute wasn't so bad. We were both ensconced in our homes and I saw no reason why a twenty-mile drive should interfere with that.
You mean we're never going to live together? William asked, forking a mouthful of food.
This question and his dismay surprised me. And secretly delighted me. Secretly being the operative word.
Why would we? This is fine...isn't it?
Forever? William frowned.
Sure.
I answered in a light and breezy voice because I like coming off as a "don't need anyone" kind of gal. I like this portrait of myself because the idea of dependency makes me cringe. I left my childhood home at seventeen and never entertained the concept of looking back, let alone moving back. I like long highways into distant horizons. I like getting in my car and driving for ten hours. Yup, forever would be just fine.
This was a complete lie, but even I didn't know that on this evening.
That's crazy.
Look, William, I've been down this road and obviously I'm not great at it. Furthermore, I have zero interest in living together to save gasoline.
What do you mean?
What do you mean, "What do you mean?"?
At this point our forks and knives were carefully placed next to our plates and the candles burned lower.
What do you mean? Pretty simple question. And he looked straight at me.
This chicken is going to be ice in a minute, I answered, and ducked his look.
Sarah Vaughan, crooning away from inside the CD player, acted like a real dolt and kept right on singing like nothing was amiss.
Okay, here's the thing, sounding like a lawyer making a case. I like my apartment. True, we've established I love you and you love me...but I couldn't just live together and not be married.
What?
It's not a moral thing. It's a dignity thing. I don't want to go into decade after decade as someone's girlfriend...I just don't. And frankly, no one has come up with a better title than wife. We all know what "partner" means, so that doesn't work. Anyway, that's what I mean.
Oh, and he started eating again. The chicken's good.
No it's not. It's wrecked.
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