Guest Post: “The Way”
“Is it the way you love me?”- Jill Scott
Sitting quietly, I’ve found, is hard for most. We get into our cars, automatically adjusting the radio dial, the volume so high it drowns our thoughts. My mother lives in a four-bedroom house, each with a television blaring toxic propaganda. If you stand in the hallway, eyes closed, it sounds like the bustle of Time Square.
That being said, I do my best thinking in silence, solving problems, epiphanies seemingly falling from the sky. I’m stirring the contents of my Lean Cuisine, wishing I could tell you my state of contemplation is voluntary. But it’s not. I’m in the #$#@*&^ doghouse again! L
Earlier, Jasmine asked me to hang artwork her mother gave her as a birthday gift. While we don’t live together, it sure feels like it. She has a picture of me beside her bed; I have a spare key, a drawer in the bathroom, hangers, manly soap and a blue toothbrush. In retrospect, I think those things are more for her than for me. LOL!
Jasmine gets home about three and it was ten after when I heard the door open. I was at the computer, doing what most people do, updating my Facebook account. “Peter!” I heard. Jasmine’s screech struck a nerve. I waited a minute before responding. In fact, it was a full minute before I moved.
I timidly walked down the hall. Jasmine met me in the bedroom, the artwork still on the floor where I left it. From my viewpoint, hanging shirts is a bit much, so, you know I wasn’t motivated. The workout, which is inhumanely strenuous, balancing, arms stretching wide, overextending your core, measuring this and holding that, seems to outweigh the pleasure of having the piece hung.
“What,” I asked, shoulders shrugged upward.
“Damn it Peter! You said you were going to hang the pictures!”
I stared blankly. It was my day off and you know how it goes. A little Maury, a little Jerry, a little Judge Brown and before you know it, it’s three o’clock.
“What’s with you?” Jasmine asked, grinding her teeth. “I don’t ask for much. Do I?” It was true, Jasmine didn’t ask for much. She didn’t associate love with gifts, for which I’m most thankful. Honestly, I couldn’t be with someone like that.
The silence made me a bit nervous. It’s funny but I prefer the wild tongue-lashing. Somewhere in the middle of the rage, Jasmine tells me why she’s angry, which leads to a frantic apology I’m not proud of.
“You just don’t get it, do you Peter?”
“But…” I started.
She cut me off. “You don’t love me.” Jasmine screamed. “You did the same thing last week.” She grabbed her purse and within seconds Jasmine was gone, the door slamming behind her.
How could that be, I thought? Me, not love Jasmine? I paid the cell phone bill, cut the grass and cleaned the garage without asking. I replayed last week, sighing regretfully. I missed her presentation she gave at a small luncheon. That couldn’t be it. She said me not being there was okay.
All the lights were off and as the sun set the house darkened. No Jasmine and she hadn’t called. I went to the freezer, removing the meatloaf and mashed potatoes Lean Cuisine. I wasn’t hungry but managed a few bites.
The microwave was ineffective as usual, cold in the middle and smoldering lava on the edges. I stirred until the contents gelled. As I chewed, what tasted like saw dust, I contemplated. The microwave heated the food but not to my content. The Lean Cuisine, as far as calories went, was what I wanted but it tasted horribly.
I don’t suggest being in the doghouse but sometimes it helps. J Jasmine had every right to be upset. I, like the microwave and Lean Cuisine, fell short. The things I didn’t do were important to her, demonstrating, at least to Jasmine, I didn’t love her. However, I love her, just not THE WAY she wants. Being loved is important and something we all desire. Make sure you love him/her the way they want to be loved.
Are you being loved the way you want to be loved? Are you loving your significant other the way they want to be loved?
About the author:
Peter Black aka Benghazi don’s a panoramic outlook, giving him a unique hue. He is a full-fledged libertarian, living life according to his own terms. Rocked since birth, Peter has Rock Star DNA and is well-traveled. Born in the South and raised by his mother, he’s a Southern Gentleman but has an affinity for the East Coast. Peter enjoys the creative process and when he’s not blogging, he’s creating projects for his You Tube channel.