Sarah
Guilt. It's such a horrific thing. Damn my conscience. Regret and guilt are too completely different things. I don't regret what I just did. Not in the slightest. But guilt is sinking in. Before today, there was none, because it was okay. I had "permission". But the moment I admitted my feelings, and took it one step further, that all changed. And it's not fair to anyone. Fuck.
"Hey, you okay?" He asks me.
"No," I tell him honestly.
"Tell me what's on your mind. And don't hold back. Don't worry about hurting my feelings or anything like that, okay? Just think out loud, I want to know what's going through your head."
"Guilt. I love you Michael, I just made love to you and I don't regret it one bit. But it's not fair to anyone. It's not fair to you, to Rob, to myself. Someone's going to get hurt, more than just me now."
"Hey!" He takes my face into his strong calloused hands, kissing me gently before continuing. "Don't do this to yourself. You listened to your heart, for once, not your head. You and I both know where your heart is, and where it isn't. Maybe it was there years ago, but something's happened and your heart got lost along the way. Don't feel guilty for listening to your heart. Your heart will never steer you wrong." Are you sure you're only 20 Michael? I'm supposed to be the mature and wise one! We lay there in bed for quite before my phone rings. Again. All of a sudden, these last few days Rob's calling me all the time and it's really annoying me. But this time, I don't leave the room. I'm happy and comfortable in Michael's arms, so that's where I'm staying.
"Hello?" I answer, my irritation already showing through.
"Hey Sarah, listen. I wanted to apologize for this morning. I had no right to talk to you that way. This stupid job site is just really stressing me out." Same old story. You're stressed, you take it out on me, then apologize and think everything is good again.
"So you took it out on me?"
"I'm sorry. I just, God these people are pissing me off. But I didn't need to talk to you that way." I remain silent. "But in all honesty, I really do need you to step it up when we get home. You need to snap out of this depression thing you've got going on and just get in and bust ass. You need to get off your ass and off that damn phone and quit chasing around a bunch of boys half your age. You're 40, start acting like it. No more concerts, no more Twitter bs, just get a full time job and work on that house. If you can't do that, maybe you should just stay here until you can." Are you fucking kidding me? "I don't want you going home until you can give the house 150% of your time and focus. I have to get back to work, but I'll talk to you later. Love you, bye." We hang up and I throw my phone across the room.
"ASSHOLE!" I yell. All my guilt is gone. Michael pulls me into his chest and I just cry.
"What is Rob saying? Did he really tell me not to go home until I could be someone I'm not? Take away all my fun, the only things that keep me sane? I know things need to change, that's why I am in Sydney instead of Melbourne with him - to give me a break from life. But he can't even give me that. I can't just "snap out of it." Depression doesn't work that way! And I can't be some June Cleaver/Suzy Homemaker. That's not who I am. I've never been that person. And at 40 years old, I'm never going to be. I'm not some immature child that he can mold into his idea of the perfect housewife. I'm me. Take it or leave it." I shouldn't have said all that out loud, but I'm sick of holding it inside. "I'm so sick of being treated this way. The sad part is, I'm fairly certain I will tolerate it and continue to live this way until the kids are gone in 5 years. 5 years... That's a long time to be miserable."
Michael just rubs my back and listens to me rant. Once I'm done crying, I wipe my tears and apologize.
"I'm sorry. That's not what you needed to hear. I should never have told you all that."
"You needed to get it out. I'm here for you Sarah. Always. No matter what." This makes me smile. He's too good for a mess like me. "Now, want to go get some ice cream?"
"You and your ice cream!" I laugh. "A milkshake and a burger sounds amazing right now!"
"Then what are we waiting for?! Let's go!"
"Can I fix my face first?" I ask. He looks at me confused. "I've just been crying. Again. I'm sure I look like hell." He holds my face in his hands, examining it closely from different angles, kisses my cheeks where the tears had been, then releases my face.
"There! Perfect! Let's go!" he announces, and I can't help but laugh. Only Mikey!
Michael
We walk down to the diner again, hand in hand. The warmth of her soft hands sends chills down my spine. We get seated in the same booth as before and we order lunch with our milkshakes. As soon as the waitress leaves, I reach across the table, wrapping her tiny hands inside mine.
"Michael? What about fans? A picture like this could cause a lot of hell on twitter!"
"I don't care. Let people speculate." I squeeze her hands and we sit there for a minute gazing into each others eyes. The pain in her heart is tearing me in two. I'm running her words over and over in my head. A few words and phrases stick out among the rest: depression, five years, being someone she's not, don't come home, took it out on me...
"Sarah?" I ask. I have to know. "Is he abusive?"
"What? Oh god no! Not physically at least!" she answers immediately. That's a huge relief. But he is abusive in other ways?
"In what ways is he?" she puts her head down. She can't seem to look at me anymore. I wish she would.
"I have lost all my self confidence. He indirectly puts me down, makes me feel incompetent. Anything that goes wrong is automatically my fault."
"Why do you stay? Aside from the kids?"
"He doesn't mean to. It's all he knows. That's just how he is. He's really smart and can do just about anything he sets his mind to, whereas I have to try and fail to figure things out. He gets mad for me not taking his advice or direction, but I just need to learn things my way. And to be totally honest, I've grown completely dependent on him. I haven't has a real full time job in 17 years, I can't even get a regular part time job. I'm in the wrong area to start the career I want, which he doesn't even consider a "real job" or a career at all. I would have nowhere to go, no way to support myself." What do you say to that. I'm sure she knows how manipulative and controlling this sounds. There isn't anything I can say, so I don't say anything at all.
