We have been together for two years. I love literature and often posts his my on the net, but nobody ever reads them. I am also into photography and I also handle wedding photos. I love him very much. Likewise with him, he has a quick temper and always bullies me. I am a gentleman and always give in to him. Today, he’s being willful again.
Him: “Why can’t you be the photographer for my friend’s wedding? She promised she’d pay.”
Me: “I don’t have time that day.”
Him: “Humph!”
Me: “Huh?”
Him: “Don’t have time? Write less of those novels, and you will have all the time you need.”
Me: “I... someone will definitely recognize my work someday.”
Him: “Humph! I don’t care; you’ll have to do it for her!”
Me: “No.”
Him: “Just this once?”
Me: “No.”
Negotiation’s broken. So, she gave the final warning:
“Give me a Yes within three days, or else...”
First day, he “withheld” the kitchen, bathroom, computer, refrigerator, and television, Wi-Fi, except the double bed to show to me “benevolence”. Of course, he has to sleep on it too. I didn’t mind those things, as I still have some cash in my pocket. Second day, he conducted a raid and removed everything from my pockets and warned, “Seek any external help, and you bear the consequences.” I got nervous. That night, on the bed, I begged for mercy, hoping that he’ll end this state. He doesn’t give a damn. He didn’t give in, whatever I said. Until I agree. Third night I am lying on the bed, looking to one side. He’s lying on the bed, looking to the other side.
Me: “We need to talk.”
Him: “Unless it’s about the wedding, forget it.”
Me: “It’s something very important.”
He remains silent.
Me:”Let’s end this relationship.”
He did not believe his ears.
Me: “I got to know another guy.”
He’s totally angry, and wanted to hit me. But he held it down and let me finish. But his eyes already felt wet. I took a photo out from my chest. I hid it on my undershirt pocket because that’s the only place he didn’t go through yesterday. How careless.
Me: “He is a handsome and nice guy.”
His tears fell.
Me: “He has a good personality too.”
He’s heartbroken because I put a photo of some other guy close to my heart (chest).
Me: “He said that he’ll support me fully in my pursuit for literature no matter what happen.”
He’s very jealous because he said the same thing in the past.
Me: “He loves me truly.”
He wishes to sit up and scream at me “Don’t I?”
Me: “So, I think he won’t force me to do something that I don’t want to do.”
He’s thinking, but the rage won’t subside.
Me: “Want to take a look at the photo I took for him?”
Him: “...!”
I showed to him the photo I was holding. He’s in a total rage, hits his hand away and leaves a burning slap on my face. He cried. I returned the photo back to my pocket. He pulled his hand back under the blanket. I turned off the light, and slept. He turns on the light, and sits up. I was already sleeping that time. He lost sleep. He regrets treating the way he treated me. He cried again, and thought about a lot of things. He wanted to wake me up. He wants to have an intimate talk with me. He doesn’t want to push me anymore. He stared at my chest. He wanted to see how the boy looks. He slips the photo out. He wanted to cry and he wanted to laugh. It’s a nicely taken photo, a photo of him taken over a year ago. He bends down, and kissed my on my cheek. I smiled. I was just pretending to be asleep.
“You learn to love, not by finding a perfect person, but by learning to see an imperfect person perfectly.”
