Page 103 of What It's Like in Words
“Don’t be dramatic.ObviouslyI’ve never wanted you to feel like that,” he says lightly, flicking his eyes over his shoulder like there’s someone there to agree with him.
I think about the way it feels when he smiles at me, like I’m in on the joke. I wonder if I’ve ever really been in on the joke. I remember what Ruth said at my party two years ago:It seems to me like the jokes are his.
“It’s notobvious, though. You’re a lion. You pounce. You wait for weak moments and then you pounce.”
“You pounce too, Enola.”
“You think getting emotional is an attack?”
“It is!”
“It’s not!”
“Stop acting like you’re innocent.”
“That’s not what I’m saying.”
“You literally just compared yourself to a gazelle.”
“That wasn’t the point of the metaphor.”
“It’s not all my fault when we fight, Enola.”
“But I neverwantto hurt you. You are actively unkind, and I’ve come to realize that is one of the worst things someone can be.”
He begins pacing. “Great, so now I’m theworst thingthat someone can be? Last night you wanted us to be together and now I’m theworst thingthat someone can be?”
I pour myself a glass of water. He stops pacing and stares while I drink, challenging me to respond, which I do, calmly: “Yes, and I’ve been acting like I don’t have a choice and I do have a choice. We always have a choice.”
He scoffs. “Come on. This is just Ruth’s shit.”
I slam the glass down on the counter. “This has got nothing to do with Ruth. All Ruth has ever done is ask me whatIwant. When have you ever asked that? When have you ever cared about what I want or feel or think, even?”
He approaches me, and I back against the fridge.
“That’s not fair, Enola. You can’t accuse me of not being there for you when you never tell me anything.”
“Because you don’t want to know! You like to feel needed but you don’t actually want tobeneeded.”
“No, you’re the one pushingmeaway. And it’s not the first time. You broke up with me, remember? You’re so quick to forget the things that don’t support your argument.”
“I broke up with you because I told you that I loved you and you told me not to be silly.”
His mouth opens and closes as if he’s thinking of what to say; then he sits at the kitchen table. “Fine, okay, I shouldn’t have said that, and maybe I wasn’t ready at the time, but we were just finding our feet again.”
“You were relieved. Your exact words were: ‘I understand.’”
“And then you moved on to that guy instantly.”
“That was two months later and…” I put my hands over my face. “Thisis why I didn’t want to talk.”
He smiles and says: “Because you know that I’m right.”
“Becauseit’s pointless. It doesn’t matter. What you’re saying doesn’t matter. This isn’t about you. It’s about me. I’m at the stage of my life where I know what I want and—”
“Aha! This is what it’s really about,” he says, nodding. “Houses and marriage and babies.”
I slam my head back against the fridge. “Shut up!”
