Tuesday, June 26, 2012
26 June 2012
"Shirt".
Up and over. My shoulders pop. Glug glug glug. The lights are on. It is 4am. I am standing naked in our bathtub. I don't know anything else.
"This is hydrogen peroxide. It is going to disinfect you. It is going to burn. It is very cold". There is a bottle cap of clear liquid pinched between his fingers. We both stand there for a while-- him on the bath mat in his tshirt and shorts and sandals, me stark naked in the porcelain tub with my hair up in a matted bun-- but I do not say anything and he has nothing more to say. He lifts it up to my body.
"Why do these things bother me so much?" I have some clothes on. A nightgown, actually. My feet are tucked under my ass. I am sitting on the floor of the office. It is 3am.
There is no reply. I take that as permission to keep going. "If I cared as much about myself as I don't care about everything else, all my problems would be gone". I know I'm lying. I know I don't have any problems. I know my life is perfect. I know I am spoiled and childish. I am a little girl. My problem is that I do not know how to grow up. My problem is that I was born a 40 year old woman who likes Earl Grey tea and reading essays and practicing penmanship. My problem is that I am growing younger. "I just want to be a normal person. I want to do normal people things".
I hear footsteps past the office. Moments later a door close and the familiar click clack of the front door bolting. I am alone in the apartment.
A sigh. "What does that even mean?"
I can't supply an answer so I don't try. More quiet. I finger the frills of my nightgown and soon the fabric is moist with my sweat.
"Some people just are the way they are. Expecting you to be something you're not is like expecting every living person to be able to cut open a body just because surgeons exist". He half-laughs. I can hear the TV on in the background. The house sounds hollow.
It is cold. "See, it's fizzing white," he says to me. "Look". I don't. It runs down my thighs and my stomach and my calves and pools at my feet. Glug glug glug.
"I'm going to keep doing this until the white goes away. That means it's not infected anymore". He explains this to me with no feeling. There is no sympathy or empathy or any other form of what makes a human. Lifts the cap to my body. It is cold. It is 4am. I don't feel a burn or the fizzing. I am tired.
"We love you here at home. We love you no matter what". My blue nightgown is brown. I have cookie dough under my fingernails. I inhale and my back cracks.
"Even if I'm crazy?"
Another half-laugh. "What does that even mean?" It is 3am. I am not sure. I decide to never use those words again.
Glug glug glug. "I am going to tell you something while I am doing this. I want you to listen very carefully. I have thought about this a lot". Cold. Fizz. The pool around my feet gets wider.
"I am willing to do this as long as I have to. If you never get better--if this never gets better--I am okay with that. I will pour hydrogen peroxide on your body every night for the rest of my life if I have to. I love you more than I have ever loved anything. I would do anything for you. Do you understand that? Even if it means doing this. Do you understand?"
I can't open my mouth so I nod. Glug glug glug. "I wish you would stop. I just wish you would stop. I know you think it is just you alone in this but it is not. It hurts you just as much as it hurts me. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Aren't you happy? You have everything you need and most of the things you want. You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my whole entire life. Aren't you happy? I am running out of things to do. I am running out of ideas". Cold. Fizz. It's 4am and I'm tired. I tilt my head back and my neck pops. A moment of quiet. There is no sound of chemicals pouring out of a bottle.
I look at him and he is not pouring. He is looking at me. We look at each other. I do not say anything.
"But I promise you that I will do this as long as I have to. I promise you that I will never send you back to Chicago. I promise you that there is no giving up because there is nothing to give up on".
He breaks eye contact and puts the bottle down on the toilet tank. I am cold and I am naked and I am tired.
"Even if I'm crazy?" I squeak.
He shakes his head. "I am just as crazy as you. Crazy does not mean anything to me".
Up and over. My shoulders pop. Glug glug glug. The lights are on. It is 4am. I am standing naked in our bathtub. I don't know anything else.
"This is hydrogen peroxide. It is going to disinfect you. It is going to burn. It is very cold". There is a bottle cap of clear liquid pinched between his fingers. We both stand there for a while-- him on the bath mat in his tshirt and shorts and sandals, me stark naked in the porcelain tub with my hair up in a matted bun-- but I do not say anything and he has nothing more to say. He lifts it up to my body.
"Why do these things bother me so much?" I have some clothes on. A nightgown, actually. My feet are tucked under my ass. I am sitting on the floor of the office. It is 3am.
There is no reply. I take that as permission to keep going. "If I cared as much about myself as I don't care about everything else, all my problems would be gone". I know I'm lying. I know I don't have any problems. I know my life is perfect. I know I am spoiled and childish. I am a little girl. My problem is that I do not know how to grow up. My problem is that I was born a 40 year old woman who likes Earl Grey tea and reading essays and practicing penmanship. My problem is that I am growing younger. "I just want to be a normal person. I want to do normal people things".
I hear footsteps past the office. Moments later a door close and the familiar click clack of the front door bolting. I am alone in the apartment.
A sigh. "What does that even mean?"
I can't supply an answer so I don't try. More quiet. I finger the frills of my nightgown and soon the fabric is moist with my sweat.
"Some people just are the way they are. Expecting you to be something you're not is like expecting every living person to be able to cut open a body just because surgeons exist". He half-laughs. I can hear the TV on in the background. The house sounds hollow.
It is cold. "See, it's fizzing white," he says to me. "Look". I don't. It runs down my thighs and my stomach and my calves and pools at my feet. Glug glug glug.
"I'm going to keep doing this until the white goes away. That means it's not infected anymore". He explains this to me with no feeling. There is no sympathy or empathy or any other form of what makes a human. Lifts the cap to my body. It is cold. It is 4am. I don't feel a burn or the fizzing. I am tired.
"We love you here at home. We love you no matter what". My blue nightgown is brown. I have cookie dough under my fingernails. I inhale and my back cracks.
"Even if I'm crazy?"
Another half-laugh. "What does that even mean?" It is 3am. I am not sure. I decide to never use those words again.
Glug glug glug. "I am going to tell you something while I am doing this. I want you to listen very carefully. I have thought about this a lot". Cold. Fizz. The pool around my feet gets wider.
"I am willing to do this as long as I have to. If you never get better--if this never gets better--I am okay with that. I will pour hydrogen peroxide on your body every night for the rest of my life if I have to. I love you more than I have ever loved anything. I would do anything for you. Do you understand that? Even if it means doing this. Do you understand?"
I can't open my mouth so I nod. Glug glug glug. "I wish you would stop. I just wish you would stop. I know you think it is just you alone in this but it is not. It hurts you just as much as it hurts me. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Aren't you happy? You have everything you need and most of the things you want. You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my whole entire life. Aren't you happy? I am running out of things to do. I am running out of ideas". Cold. Fizz. It's 4am and I'm tired. I tilt my head back and my neck pops. A moment of quiet. There is no sound of chemicals pouring out of a bottle.
I look at him and he is not pouring. He is looking at me. We look at each other. I do not say anything.
"But I promise you that I will do this as long as I have to. I promise you that I will never send you back to Chicago. I promise you that there is no giving up because there is nothing to give up on".
He breaks eye contact and puts the bottle down on the toilet tank. I am cold and I am naked and I am tired.
"Even if I'm crazy?" I squeak.
He shakes his head. "I am just as crazy as you. Crazy does not mean anything to me".
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