Mr. He'll Do

When I look at his face I think about how I wished and prayed that I would find someone and this is what I was sent. After all the dating, partying and half-hearted love affairs, this is where I end up. Staring at the face of a man who I once loved for his intellect, caring heart and eternal optimism. Now all I see before me is a ball and chain that is connected to something resembling an anvil. Be careful what you wish for.
When we met I was not at all interested in finding a mate. Indeed, I had spent many days and nights after the end of a very stormy relationship with my son’s father (that ended with police and guns drawn) wishing and praying for Mr. Right. But, by the time I met my now husband I had given up, I believed that I was destined to raise my then 5 year-old son on my own. Just when I became ok with that, in strolls Mr. He’ll-Do. He was nice enough and handsome enough and I needed to have my life validated so I allowed him to grow on me. As we discussed life as new couples do, it was as though I was talking to myself, we were so in sync it was scary. It was during long nights that we discussed life plans and dreams and it was during those times that I saw him as caring and optimistic, like a ray of sunshine shining on my otherwise bleak existence. However, even during those wonderful times my instinct was to fight him off. I figured if you don’t get close you couldn’t get hurt. Never in all the romances in all my life had someone fought this hard for me, he was determined to have me. I would go days without picking up the phone to call him; I just wanted to be left alone but not lonely. Yet, every day he would leave me several “just thinking of you” messages. He courted me. I fell for it. Now, after five years of marriage, one 21/2 year old and one hefty mortgage I feel like he tricked me. He is not the same person who chased me until I was out of breath and finally gave in like some twisted adult version of tag.
I went into this relationship with my eyes wide open. I didn’t fall in love I walked calmly into its warm embrace after fighting a tough battle to stay out of its grasp, similar to a death row inmate who has exhausted all their appeals. With him I wasn’t all nervous and goofy trying to make sure I said and did the right thing at all times to make him love me. It seemed as if he loved me for me from the beginning without the pretense, at least that was his claim. I’d tell my friends that he doesn’t eat red meat; he doesn’t drink, smoke or gamble. He doesn’t beat me and he doesn’t cheat on me. They say, what more could you ask for? I guess we have been programmed to think almost is good enough.
Things change. He has now resorted to using his intellect to belittle me and make me feel small, he reminds me of my short comings and will gladly list them for anyone who’s interested in hearing or even if they’re not. He explodes with anger and throws large pizza pies with everything against my custom drapes. He goes to work, comes home and sits on the couch. We don’t talk anymore, not about life, the future or the past. Mostly we blame each other. He still shows his caring side, just not to me, he’s still optimistic, but not about things that matter.
I can remember my mother saying you must be “evenly yoked”; it’s a term that comes from the bible. I took that to mean that you should come from similar backgrounds and want similar things out of life in order for it to work. Clearly some crucial part was left out or I misinterpreted the meaning. I was pleased to know that he was college educated and had been raised in a family with southern roots like mine. They seemed normal enough. But now as I look back I see the contempt he displayed for his mother when she spoke in a shrill tone similar to Edith Bunker or offered him a burger without regard for the fact that he doesn’t eat red meat. He tried to hide it but I saw it clearly and then pretended it didn’t exist. I thought maybe she is annoying enough to dislike or at the very least pity. Now I pity myself.
The bottom line is that I don’t like him anymore. As each day passes he seems smaller and smaller to me. He presented himself to me as this big man who would always take care of me and supply all my worldly needs and it turns out he can’t even do something as fundamental as pay his share of the bills on time. He resents that I resent him. He has skillfully managed to chip away at whatever legitimate feelings I once held for him, now I’m searching for my escape.
I often think about what my friends and family will say. Maybe I should tell them he’s taken to beating me, I guess that sounds better than he poured a two liter soda over my head because he was angry at me for not putting it in the refrigerator. I don’t care what they think; marriage is for those who can’t stand to be alone. Now that I’ve decided I like me better than him, each step I take is deliberate and calculated much like how I imagine the Underground Railroad to have been. Over the time that has passed he has successfully ground my heart, soul and spirit into a fine powdery dust, I’m leaving before the wind begins to blow.