Happy Valentine's Day

How fitting it is raining today, tears from heaven. For years we had talked about going to Maine, all the places he wanted to show me and the people he wanted me to meet. I heard the stories of his childhood over and over, he was a good storyteller and I loved listening to him, although most people would have a hard time following him as he tended not to finish sentences, but I always knew where he was going with it and what he meant and even thought it was more entertaining that way. I think he knew every famous person from Maine and was always jokingly reminding me of it, there did seem to be a lot, but I had never known anyone from Maine and had never been there.  He didn't talk about it as much in the beginning, but as our relationship grew, he grew too, and started relating to everything and everyone on a deeper level. He started remembering more and more about growing up, the people and places. Maine had left an indelible mark on him, even though one of his proudest accomplishments was that he had left it and lived all over the country and had all kinds of experiences, something many people from there never do. And now it was Valentine's Day and he was taking me there to share it all.

The year before had been a terrible Valentine's Day. I was out of town the night before and we had already talked quite a few times that day but he called one more time and didn't sound good. I asked him what was wrong and he said he was feeling really sick because he felt like he had to take his wife out to dinner the next night. It had only been a few weeks since he had started spending a little time there, solely to be with his son of course, and even though he said he wasn't going through with it he said he felt like he had to take her out, she would expect it and know something was wrong. I could not believe it. I spent every day with him, I took care of him and did things for him, I built him up and supported him, I had spent the whole day running around town to find gifts for his son's girlfriend before I left and it was me he slept with every night. He always talked how she never did anything for him, nothing except critisize him and collect his check. This was the baffling thing about him, he would be so attentive and caring, loving and committed, and then do something so callous and hurtful, things that normal people would never do. Of course he didn't do it in the beginning, until I was in too deep and then it slowly began to come out. 

I was stunned, just as I always was by such seemingly contradictive, and cruel behavior. He had called to ask me first before he called her and of course I cried and asked him please not to do this, that it was wrong, you don't sleep with someone every night and go spend Valentine's Day with someone else, nobody does that, only the worst kind of people do that. It's what you have been doing your whole life I told him, please don't be that kind of a man, the kind of man you said you never wanted to be again. He said he had to, said it would be too big of a fight and upset their son, blaming it on someone else as usual and I hung up.

We talked many more times that night with me crying and him convincing me of how much he loved me and wanted me, how he was only doing this for his son. So that's it, I said, no I'd like to take you to lunch or anything? Oh of course, he said, we can go to lunch and spend the whole day together but I told him I shouldn't have had to ask and thanks, but no thanks. This was how he operated, how everyone in his life did, hurt each other in insididious ways while acting unaware, they were the royalty of passive aggression. I didn't answer my phone the next day, he called a dozen times and even called hotels looking for me. His dinner was a failure of course, or so he told me, he didn't make reservations or get her a gift, or so he told me, and said he was miserable and thought about me the whole time. 

I went to his house when I got back the next night and as usual didn't hold it against him because he acted so remorseful, no silent treatment or shutting him out, I genuinely forgave him and even gave him the gift I had gotten him because I did not want to be like him. It was a scrapbook and supplies for all the articles he had saved about his son and some other things, all of which he recently very proudly declared to be junk and trash and had hauled away, and I watched as the workers carefully stowed the bag behind the seat of their truck, strangers, garbage haulers no less, valued the things more than he did and as I watched I was filled with shame...for him...the shame he should have been feeling, for devaluing another human being just because he could. Devaluing another person's love, and caring, and efforts, and sacrifice, there is no excuse for it, ever. It's all he had ever known, there was no such talk in any house he had ever lived, they only talked about money and things and treated people well only if they wanted to be in favor with them.

He did not give me anything, not even a card or a piece of chocolate but said he would take me away for the week end. I don't care one bit about things, he knew that, I care about people, kindness, and valuing others, he also knew that, that is what some small token would have shown, just a thoughtfulness and appreciation for another person, I did those kinds of things for him and his son every day, but he couldn't be bothered. But that night, I was still feeling sorry for him and trying to be a good person and do the right thing, to be understanding and loving, and we lay on the floor in front of the fire kissing and caressing, until he pulled me up and said come on, let's go to bed, I want to make love to you, and he did, and it was wonderful and sensuous just like always and we fell asleep wrapped around each other, just like always.