Dave's Confusion

He slams his glass down, spilling water out onto the kitchen table.

And I use my tongue to fiddle at the swatch of beef wedged in-between my molars.

His mouth gapes, and his words smother me like stepping out into glaring sun on a 90 degree day.

But I don't hear them.

I watch his mouth move, and wait for him to stop. Then I can finally speak.

"I'm sorry-"

He's unswayed. He never believes my words are genuine anymore. Why should he? I've been ambivalent enough to prove that they are inconsistent at best.

He's asking me something about Why didn't I just tell him I wasn't going to pay the electric bill so he could have done it himself instead of getting late fees and a shut-off notice. Exactly. There it is.

He waits for me to answer, and his face reddens when I refuse to.

I rise from the table and walk over to his side where he's standing. I put my hands on both of his shoulders. I look into his face, arms-length away. Tormented confusion.

I hug him.

He's stiff.

A few moments, then he pushes me away.

The tears spring instantly, though I knew this was coming.

"Look, Beth, why can't you just be responsible?"

"Because I'm not," I try to reply without whining.

"I know. That's the problem."

"I'm never going to be something I'm not, Dave. You knew who I was when you married me."

"That's not exactly true."

"What?! What are you trying to say?" He better not say it.

"How could you possible know someone completely in only a year and a half? We've been married for eight more. I didn't know most of the things then that I know about you now."

"Go ahead. Say it. If you'd known all this about me, you never would have wanted to marry me!"

"You're putting words in my mouth."

"No! I'm pulling them out of your brain."

"Huh?" He tilts his head, and brings his thumb up to his chin, the way he always does when he's contemplating something. Why is he playing dumb?

"I know that's what you're thinking. You wish you hadn't married me. Well, tough luck. We're stuck with each other. I'm not going anywhere, and I know you sure as hell aren't. So we're trapped in this with each-other, no matter how much we both hate it. Enjoy."

Dave drops his arms, and his mouth hangs open for a moment before he finally asks, "You hate being married to me?"

"I didn't say that."