Love Is Not Convenient

I apologize for the email

Fri, 22 Mar 2013 23:33:00 -0400

The situation between my parents and Ted is quite shitty. Spending the holidays without my family sucked. I’m glad that I finally got to spend Christmas with Ted, but it was depressing to spend Christmas Eve at a restaurant that we actually couldn’t afford and then spend Christmas dinner with the family of a woman from work who I only considered an acquaintance. I had decided not to spend Christmas with my aunt and my cousin in Jersey, despite their very kind invitations, because it had caused a huge fight between them and my mom and I didn’t want to make things worse. In fact, my mom, dad and sister didn’t spend Christmas at my aunt’s house like we usually do, because of this “feud.” Furthermore, my mom is still not speaking to my aunt (her sister) and my cousin (my mom’s niece and goddaughter) because of their decision to welcome Ted and me into their homes for Christmas.

I called my parents every night during the holidays, just as I did prior to everything blowing up. My family ignored my calls, so I just left messages on the answering machine every night. ”Hi, it’s me. Just wanted to say hello, and I love you.” I left messages on the answering machine every night from Christmas through January. Finally, one night my mom picked up. She and my dad wanted me to come home. Honestly, I was terrified to go to home because I anticipated a weekend of living in a hostile environment with no escape, especially since my sister was disappointed in my decision to “choose” to spend Christmas with Ted over the family, I couldn’t even rely on her as a buffer or an ally.

I went home in February and had a tearful and emotional time. I missed my mom and my dad, and we held each other for a long time in the train station when they picked me up. It was at that moment when I realized just how much I loved them and missed them, and couldn’t handle a life without them.

The weekend continued as though nothing had ever happened. We exchanged belated Christmas gifts, and cooked together and watched movies together like before. Finally after dinner Saturday night, my mom and dad and I had our first confrontational, adult conversation. I wonder if this is a cultural thing that you have experienced as well: despite being an adult yourself, you still speak to your parents as…parents. Elders who are wiser than you, and who deserve more respect than you. I hope you know what I’m talking about. My other friends don’t understand, so I’m hoping someone else can identify with this complicated adult child-parent relationship that I’m describing.

I digress because, in this conversation, something else happened. I finally spoke to my parents as an equal. I wasn’t their naive child, or their distraught daughter. I told them the same thing that I had been saying, “I love him, and my decision to be with him is one that only I can make. You cannot make the decision for me.” This time, rather than responding with their usual “you are too young; you need to listen to us,” my parents finally responded differently. This time they said, “Yes, it is your decision. But you need to recognize that we don’t like him for you. We are concerned that he lacks ambition, and he will end up financially unstable and unsuccessful like his parents. The fact that he moved to New York to be with you when you were just 22, scares us. You never had a chance to meet someone else. We are scared that you will marry him, because he “trapped” you and you will marry into a life of struggle. You will inherit his and his family’s debt, and you will do this before ever having met anyone else. But you are right. This is your decision, and only yours to make. But you need to understand that if you marry him, you will be marrying someone who we have many doubts about - someone who we simply do not like. And if you marry him, he as your husband will become your new family and you will no longer be a part of ours.”

So there you have it. I finally have the respect from my parents as an adult — their acknowledgement that my relationship with Ted represents a decision for me, and only me, to make.

I love my family so much. Sometimes I cry when I think about the sacrifices they’ve made to give me everything I could have ever needed and wanted growing up. I don’t want to hear what my other friends born to American parents, tell me: your parents need to understand that this is America, in 2013. We don’t do arranged marriages here. You marry for love, and not for money.”

While I appreciate that advice, I need to talk this out with someone who understands that I have been born with, and will never be able to get rid of, this culturally-ingrained psychological complex through which I want to make my parents and my grandparents proud of me. I want to maintain the lifestyle they worked so hard to provide me. I want to be someone they can brag about. I want to have my own family who my parents will be proud to call their own as well. This is what I want. This is what will make me happy.

I recognize that the fact that my happiness is so dependent on the happiness of others is fucked up - but that’s something else for me to work out separately.

I’m so scared and unhappy right now. I don’t know how to fix it. I see my parents’ concern and I love them so much, that I am genuinely thinking about breaking up with the man who is my best friend. I’m trying to tell myself that once I get it over with, the pain will pass. But I fear that one day, I will convince myself that the struggle between attaining happiness by being in love with my best friend, versus attaining happiness by pleasing my family will be too difficult, and finally I will convince myself to let Ted go. I fear that I will meet someone else and fall in love. I fear that one day I will look at my new husband and my new family, and I will think of Ted and wonder what our family would have been like.

You are the only one

Sun, 17 Mar 2013 19:03:39 -0400

I want to wake up next to you every morning. I want to cry to you, and be held by only you.

You are the only person worth getting disappointed in. The only person worth yelling at to the point of tears. I am terrified about raising a family with you; doubtful that we will be able to make it. But you are the only person I want to give this a try with.

have u seen her?: Track 01 - "Silver Screen"

Tue, 05 Mar 2013 19:34:16 -0500

have u seen her?: Track 01 - "Silver Screen":

hushnyc:

It’s a late night at work. After having a much needed drink with some colleagues, I step outside, hold the wooden handle and push my thumb against the silver button which opens the canopy. It was raining, hard. I start my four avenue trek to the subway, booking it so I can get out of the crappy…

Disappointed

Wed, 27 Feb 2013 19:48:00 -0500

This is not where I thought I’d be at 24.

I don’t want to be disappointed with my life.

I want to be happy.

I want to feel accomplished, and brilliant and successful.

I don’t feel any of those things. Just disappointed.

Independent

Wed, 27 Feb 2013 19:42:00 -0500

I remember walking alone, on my way to my apartment in Italy. I remember getting lost. I didn’t have a smart phone with GPS. I remember walking around in circles, desperate for any sign of familiarity. I remember being terrified to approach someone for directions, because I didn’t speak the language.

Then, I remember figuring it out.

I want the chance to figure it out again. On my own.

I can’t take care of you; I can barely keep track of myself.

Sun, 17 Feb 2013 00:00:00 -0500

Sorry about last night. I’ve been feeling anxious and depressed lately too. When you called me Saturday night, I had so much anxiety trying to calm you down, when I can barely calm myself down anymore.

For the same reason, I felt helpless and frustrated when we were on the phone last night. You said that you needed to hear my voice because you “weren’t feeling like yourself.”

I know things are difficult for you right now. I also know that we are supposed to be partners, to lean on each other when the other needs support. But how can we do that when we’re both in need of repair right now?

Your side of the bed

Sat, 09 Feb 2013 22:45:00 -0500

When you’re gone, I sleep on your side of the bed.

I fall asleep on your pillow, drinking in the faint scent of you. I smiled as I made the bed this morning, and found the worn tshirt that you had left behind for me. You knew that I would miss you, so you left your shirt for me on the bed, instead of throwing it in the laundry basket.

Throughout the night, I’ve caught myself foolishly, pathetically kissing your pillow and the shirt you left behind - not because I necessarily want to, but because this is my instinctual reaction, whenever I catch your scent. My mind is tricked into believing that you’re here, when really, it’s just your shirt. It’s just your pillow. Just your side of the bed.

Happiness

Sat, 09 Feb 2013 22:02:30 -0500

I want to remember, or learn what it’s like to be happy on my own. Currently, my contentment relies on the happiness of others. My mother’s happiness. My father’s. My sister’s. My boyfriend’s.

I realize I’m not happy anymore.

I want to be happy.

What If

Fri, 08 Feb 2013 23:08:00 -0500

I had not quit pre-med

You you had not followed me to New York

I didn’t have to worry about financially supporting two people

I didn’t have to focus on starting a life with you

I finally pursued what I want to do

I didn’t feel like I had to prove my mother wrong

I could walk away from you

I had never fallen in love with you

Sometimes I wish.

If I Should Fall Behind

Wed, 06 Feb 2013 20:08:00 -0500

We swore we’d travel darlin’ side by side
We’d help each other stay in stride
But each lover’s steps fall so differently
But I’ll wait for you
And if I should fall behind
Wait for me

You accidentally wear your heart on your sleeve, especially when you forget to clear out the cache of the computer.

I wonder if this song coincidentally crossed your mind the other day, or if you actively decided to listen to it, in light of our conversation last week.

“I was walking home from the grocery store, and I already started to feel nostalgic,” you said. ”I didn’t know if this would be one of the last times that you would let me cook dinner for you.”

“You’re crazy,” I assured you. ”I’m going through some shit right now, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to leave you. I could never let you go.”

I wonder if you knew how uncertain I was in my response to you. I wonder if you knew that my words were for me, just as much as they were for you. I wonder if you knew that I said that those words aloud because I want so badly to believe them.

Should it turn out that my response to you the other day is a lie, Should I end up breaking your heart in the process of healing my own: I apologize. Should I finally decide to selfishly make myself (rather than you) a priority, I pray that you will forgive me. And I pray that you will remember this song. I pray that you will remember to wait for me.

But I think I'll stay

Wed, 06 Feb 2013 18:37:00 -0500

I love you, but I’m not happy anymore. Sometimes, I dream about a life without you. A life where I’d only have to worry about myself. It would be less stressful. Less anger. No resentment. Yes, there will be mornings when I will wake up and cry when I don’t find you beside me, and evenings when I will miss you when I come home and don’t find you in the kitchen cooking dinner for us.

But for the most part, I think I would be happier without you.

I love you, but I’m not happy anymore.

Please know, that my unhappiness is not a reflection on you. I’m missing a piece of the puzzle. There’s something wrong with me. I feel incomplete right now, even with you by my side. I need to figure out what this hole is, this non-existent thing that, despite its absence, is taking over my thoughts and preventing me from being happy.

But I can’t do that while I’m with you. It sounds like bullshit, I know.

I dream about leaving. I dream about pursuing this missing piece. I dream about finding happiness.

But the pain of knowing that my decision to leave you would hurt you, pains me more than you can ever understand. So I think I’ll stay and continue to love you.

Anxious

Tue, 05 Feb 2013 19:28:54 -0500

Anxious:

How I feel vs. how I think I should feel. I can’t even tell the difference anymore.

1 Corinthians 13

Sun, 03 Feb 2013 17:00:00 -0500

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. (1 Corinthians 13:4-7)

The couple in the pew before us kissed each other as these familiar bible versus were read during the second reading. She smiled at him, and rested her head on his shoulder. He cradled her arm and kissed the top of her head.

I looked away from you then. I don’t know if you noticed, but I was thankful to have worn my hair down that day so that it could cover the tears that came down my face at that moment. I pretended to search for something in my purse so that you could not hold my hand.

Resentment and doubt are beginning to overshadow my love for you. All I want to do is love you. I want to return to being like that couple sitting in front of us.

A Slow Dance - Explosions In the Sky I don’t want this song to...

Sat, 02 Feb 2013 01:48:48 -0500

A Slow Dance - Explosions In the Sky

I don’t want this song to end. I don’t want this dance to end.

I’m sorry I even said anything to scare you. Let’s forget we even talked about it. Everything’s ok. We’ll get through this. Please.

Don’t stop holding me. Don’t let me go. Don’t let me leave you.

My rock.

Fri, 01 Feb 2013 19:06:00 -0500

You are my rock. And I’ve been putting you through so much, lately. Sometimes I forget that you aren’t granite, and are in fact, a person. I love you, and I promise to try harder to not put you through much emotional turmoil. You deserve better. I love you.

Sea of Love - Cat Power

We need to talk

Thu, 31 Jan 2013 19:26:00 -0500

There’s something I need to tell you.

But I’m too scared to say anything.

I’m terrified I will break something.

Paralyzed by the idea of seeing you walk out that door.

So instead, I will kiss you, and tell you the only thing I have the courage to do right now. I will tell you I love you, over and over.

Samskeyti - Sigur Ros

I need a break

Wed, 30 Jan 2013 22:15:00 -0500

from the fighting.

I need a rest from sharing the bed at night.

I want to turn on the lights when I wake up in the morning. I want to cook my own dinners. I want to plan my own weekends.

No more yelling.

No more anger.

Just a break.

Pause Button

Tue, 29 Jan 2013 04:55:00 -0500

“Sometimes I catch myself thinking, ‘What the fuck are you doing with your life?’ and I never know how to answer my own question.” I whispered into the wall, as he wrapped his arms around me in the moments before sleep.

“Australia and their gap years. Now there’s something that makes sense,” he answered, kissing the back of my head.

“When I graduated, I was so focused on getting a full-time job, and becoming financially independent. I didn’t even care that the field I was pursing at the time didn’t make sense. I just wanted to move on to the next chapter, without even thinking it through. But now,” I said, as I rolled over to face him, “I don’t know if this next chapter is what’s right for me. Because it doesn’t feel right.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, “for putting you in that position.”

I kissed him over and over. They weren’t sensual kisses, rather, they were quick, strong kisses, where each touch of our lips was a manifestation of the tears that I didn’t want to cry in that specific moment.

I wish I could press pause.

I would travel, maybe go back to school, develop my own interests. I would get my shit together. And then, I would return to this night. Climb back into bed, and reposition my body underneath his arms. I would kiss him and press play. We would pick up where we left off.

Through this “pause” function, I would be able to leave him and know what it’s like to miss him without having to cause him pain. I would be able to confirm what he so confidently already believes: that we will be married and have a family together one day, because we do not belong with anyone else but each other.

I wish I could press pause.

Dad

Mon, 21 Jan 2013 22:17:00 -0500

Fix You -Coldplay

Tears stream down your face
When you lose something you cannot replace

“How can you just sit there, as I, your daughter, sit here, begging you to please accept me and my decisions? Please trust that you raised me to be a smart and moral person. Please trust that I recognize that this is love. Please, accept my decisions. Please accept me.”

After a long pause, my mother shrugged, “You are too young to know what love is. This is not love. This is infatuation. If you marry him, I will never accept him as your husband or a member of this family. If you have children with him, I will never accept them as my grandchildren.”

“How can you say such hurtful things?” I yelled. “How can you do such hurtful things? I can’t believe you sent his parents another letter,” I said. “They’ve had a rough year. His grandmother’s dementia was worsening, so she moved back into their house. They didn’t even get to complete building her new bedroom by the time she died. You forbade me from visiting to pay final respects. They’ve had a very emotional year, and I told you that. Yet, you continued to send them a letter that said that they are horrible people, undeserving to associate with me. You called them gold diggers, and you told them that their son is an embarrassment. Can you imagine receiving such a letter? Can you imagine how you would feel to read something like that, all while you are still grieving the death of your parent?”

My mother simply shrugged and continued to pick the dirt from under her nails, as though my words were an annoying distraction from her grooming habits. Finally, she said, “Well, we’ve had a rough year too. Our daughter turned into a disobedient person and broke our hearts.”

Once it became apparent that my mother had no additional words, my father coldly confirmed, “We’re just going in circles. He’s not right for you, and you need to trust that we have your best interest in mind. If you don’t break up with him, and then marry him, he will become your new family. And since he cannot be in this family, you will not be a part of this family either.”

Deep anger and hate filled me in that moment. I could not believe that these were people who raised me; the people who claimed to love me. This is the woman who, only moments ago, offered to cook me my favorite meal since I was visiting home. This is the man who I played craps with (our favorite hobby) just hours earlier.

“Do you want me to be happy?” I quietly said between sobs.

My parents remained silent.

“Do you want me to be happy?” I tried again.

After a long pause, my father said, “Yes, we want you to be happy. And he will not make you happy. You need to trust us, your parents, on this.”

“How can you say that?!” I yelled. “This is my life. This is my relationship. You cannot judge my happiness. Only I can judge my own happiness!” I cried and cried, until finally I looked up at my mother, who appeared completely unaffected by my pain. “How can you just sit there and do nothing? Do you have any idea what you’re asking of me? Do you have any idea how much this hurts?”

My mother shrugged again, and said, “You are blinded. You are not thinking properly.”

I sat there, crying. As more anger filled me, I prayed to God for strength and patience.

“Okay, let’s go,” my dad said. “We’re going to talk alone for a minute, if that’s okay,” my father said to my mother, as he motioned me to go to his den in the basement. Again, my mother responded with cold silence.

As soon as my father and I reached the end of the stairs, he shut the door behind him and immediately held me and cried. I’d never seen my father cry like this before. He is normally a strong man. It was a true moment of juxtaposition: a sixty-one-year-old man crying in the arms of his twenty-four year old daughter. A man so strong, smart, and successful, stood in the beautifully-finished basement of his million-dollar home. He was so scared to disagree with his wife, that he had to lock the door behind him before he cried to his daughter and apologize for the facade.

“I don’t know how a woman who says that she believes in God could say and do such hurtful things,” he said. “I’m so sorry,” he said to me. “I personally don’t think he’s the right person for you, but I also don’t agree with how your mother wants to handle this.”

I held my dad for a few tear-filled moments. “I love you,” he said. “Sometimes I wonder what would have happened, had I acted on my cold feet, and called off the wedding. But then I realize, that as miserable as I am to be married to her, I love her, because I would not have you and your sister without her. I would have had different children with another woman. And I cannot wish for anything other than you two.”

My dad and I continued to cry in each other’s arms for a few more minutes.

“I’m so sorry about all this,” I said to my dad.

“Me too.”

And then one day

Mon, 21 Jan 2013 05:55:00 -0500

I fear that one day, I will decide that this is too difficult, so I will finally let you go. Then, I will convince myself that I am ready to move on from you. I will fall in love with someone else.

And then one day, I will look at my husband and my new family, and I will think of you, and wonder what ours would have been like.