Why do I write my story in English then, you may ask.
Well, simply because all these months I have lived
in English.
Besides, I can use the exercise.
The girl I married to was French, with an English speaking mother.
We got on well, in English.
Her accent was perfect, better than mine.
And since I read and wrote Engish already most of the time,
English was fine with me.
Nevertheless, English is not my mother's tongue.
I found out the hard way.
I may have been too eager, too naive, to think
I could warp into a different language zone.
Is that why my life is in such a mess now?
I have no brothers. My father died when I was young.
So I have been living among women, my mother, my sisters,
my lovers, the women I slept with.
My relations with men have been focussed
on work. I have never slept with a man.
Counting the women I was involved with for some period
of time, I come to seven.
For convenience,
and to avoid names, I give them a number.
From \#1 (number one) to \#7 (number seven).
This is not to be mean.
However, it does create some space.eliens.net>distance
and thus protects me also.
=20
=20
With \#1 I lived for about four years. Then she decided to live on her own. I was furious and smashed everything in the house. I also threw away all the plants. Actually, I gave them away, to a girl I knew. From then on, I never had another plant in the place I lived, until recently. \#7 bought me a plant. I am taking care of it now.
After \#1 moved out, our relation continued for another ten years. Her reasons for moving out were manifold. We were at the same artschool, and both needed space. Space to=20 work an= d space to breathe. Also, she liked to be able to see her friends on her own.
At the time we were quite modern, living apart tog= ether. We were never tired explaining how wonderful it was, to have a relation and a life of your own. No longer daily in eachother's presence, we started employing the agenda to fix the days to meet. We kept to a minimum of three days a week.
Living apart, we wanted to have an open relation. These were the seventies, mind. In a week of seven days, there were usually four days left. That's when \#2 came in the picture. \#2 was \#1's best friend. They had already developed an erotic attraction. As a favor, one night, I was allowed to join in. \#2 fell in love with me, and we started a relation that would last for ten years. \#1 nevertheless remained my first choice. We spent evenings discussing the situation, dealing with all the problems, talking about moods, tensions, frustrations, ambitions, films, books and culture. Actually, we liked talking.
After finishing school, we talked about taking a child. The need for a child occurred to us both and it seemed natural to have a child together. This did not imply that we would change the situation of living apart together in any way. We just planned to divide the burden of raising=20 a child. It took us a month to make the child, and another nine months to wait for its birth. The pregnancy was not easy. We were both studying again and were often quite stressed. \#1 often complained about my domestic aptitude. This became worse after the child was born. She even claimed, afterwards, that not meeting my domestic duties was the ultimate reason for our separation, four years after the child was born. I think she exagerated. She fell in love with a woman, still her partner now. And also, although never mentioned explicitly, my relation with \#2, once her best friend and female lover, must have been painful. I think she never forgave me for that.
We still share the care for our son, but as far as I know our relation was for her nothing more than 'though'. At least, that's what she told \#7 at the wedding. For years, anyway, she gave me the impression that I still owed her something. I never knew exactly what. I did my best to prove that I was a good father. She never trusted I would be. Perhaps, I overdid myself in this by not returning with \#7 to Amsterdam. Instead I continued the holidays with my son. It seemed a natural thing to do, but a different choice might have saved my marriage.
Reading my diary from that time, it appears that \#1 experienced our living together as a depressing form of intimacy and her decision to live on her own as "waking up". This struck me, because \#7 may have experienced the same feeling of depression, despite the short time we actually lived together. I also read that, at the time, my life was the result of an absence of positive choices. To an extent this still holds, although marrying \#7 seemed to be a positive choice. Anyway, \#2 came into my life by chance. \#1 had paved the way. Our relation was opportunistic. We took what was on our way. And we enjoyed it!
\#2 was French. This was a big thing for her. When we split for the first time, after three years, it had become an issue between us. She started hating everything that was Dutch, projecting it all on me. Actually, in a way I learned her to speak Dutch. Not the basics, she knew how to speak Dutch already, but the finesses, the subtleties of the language. All we did for three years, for at least two times a week, was talking and making love. We were passionate.
Our relation was no secret. People knew about it. Friends critized me, \#1's friends. "How can you do such a thing?" Nevertheless, we took care to be discrete. We were discrete. Too discrete. We did never publicly recognize eachother as lovers. Our relation was anonymous. It seemed illegal. I felt like a secret agent. An agent of love. This deepened our solitude. When we finally broke up, after ten years, our relation appeared to have taken place in the dark. An obscurity that didn't leave room for memories, or anchor points, as if it had never happened.
The key to living with two women (apart together) is organization. Already living by the agenda, it took quite some planning to keep everybody satisfied. Fortunately, I had my work (painting and philosophy) to keep me busy in the intervals.
Emotional synchronization went surprisingly well, for almost three years. I loved them, and I was able to convince myself that what I did was right. Moreover, I managed to split my time and my emotions, without a shred of doubt.
In retrospect, the whole thing might be considered as a dream, for which I applied all strategies available to keep it alive. After three years, it lost its splendor, and all I could do was trying to rescue what there was to rescue. So I talked, but I did no longer believe in what I said. Slowly, I began withdrawing myself. Incidentally, that is when I started my career as a scientist. Ending the dream, I stopped being an artist and philosopher and I transformed myself into a man of science, which I still am today.
Ironically, our final separation immediately followed on our attempt at coming out in the daylight. \#2 told her friend about us, in the hope that he would accept our relation. On the contrary, he made hell, \#2 broke down and fell into a severe depression.
I saw her just before I went to Paris to get \#7. I had this wish to reconciliate myself with my past before starting a new life. There was still a spark between us, but it was too sad and too dangerous to do anything with it. I didn't see her again after that.
The evenings with her were calm. She didn't eat much, only some carrots and bread. Indeed, she had been anorexic. She was very thin, but experienced in making love.
I listened to her stories. She used to say: "You are so human." I guess that meant about the same as when \#7 called me "sweet". I am gentle-natured, I listen to people and I do not impose myself on them. Moreover, I tend to enjoy the intimate moments with a woman, talking, touching, making love leisurely.
These evenings with her were peaceful, they gave me strength. But after a while, I grew more ambitious. I wanted to meet other people. In other words, I needed passion!
She was a director, doing various kinds of theater. She had big tits, a big car and an adventurous life. In my work, I was at a dead end, completely fed up with the people and the subject of my research. I welcomed the change in my life, going to the beach, wild people, a lot of noise. Desperately willing to change my life I made plans with her, for going to Africa, having a baby, doing theater projects. I was not in love with her so much as with the idea of giving another turn to my life.
Perhaps the most dramatic aspect of my relation with her is that, in that time, I definitely broke my relation with \#1, which was even then still lingering on.
I wanted to change my life, and commit myself. Soon, however, I found out that \#4 was still fooling around with her ex-lover. One evening, we had been out, she suddenly announced to go home by herself, smiling vaguely. I got angry with her, and slapped her on the face. After a while, we got back together, but she kept teasing me, using phrases such as "we will see", "do what you like" and "look at the way you are looking at me". She found a weak spot alright, but it was all a game to her, and she was a mean player. I had learned a lesson the hard way, I thought.
The episode had taken only a few months. It was a very hot summer, like this summer. I was disappointed and sad. I decided to concentrate on my work, finish my Ph.D. and not to fall in love again before that.
Our love was tender, but she had great difficulty of giving herself to sex. To circumvent this problem, I learned the art of kissing.
Having lots of work to do, we only saw eachother occasionally. Together, we listened to music and talked about people. We never shared a real life together. She needed more attention than I could give her, especially when my son was there.
After a while, I felt I needed someone closer to me in age. So when I met \#6, almost half a year later, I broke of the relation abruptly. But she is still a friend, supporting me in this difficult time of my life.
\#6 lived in the place of my birth. In the beginning she came often to Amsterdam. We spent much time together. We even thought about living together, but she wanted me to buy or rent another place. The place I lived in was too small and too uncomfortable to her taste. Besides, she didn't adapt well to Amsterdam.
Our life together was very secluded. We both didn't need many people around us. We had few friends. But we liked being together. We enjoyed our intimacy. Our relation was, most of the time, very tender. Our best friends, actually, were my sister and her friend. We had many conversations with them, about relations and personal problems, often half drunk, until deep in the night.
Soon after we met, we started thinking about having a baby. Somewhat to our surprise, it didn't happen rightaway. We tried everything. We took medical advice, did tests, disciplined our love life. Nothing worked, but we kept on hoping. We were both very disappointed.
\#6 had great difficulties with my past. She often said that I didn't love her enough, that I had spent all my energy before I met her. That wasn't true! Somehow, I couldn't make clear that our relation meant very much to me. But, indeed, we were not passionate.
Many times, when we had a fight, she got furious and ran out, slamming the door. I usually waited some time and then went after her. I hated her running away like that, but she always returned. In the beginning of our relation, she had warned me that she might hurt me, someday. I had kept that in mind.
Towards the end things got more and more difficult. We quarrelled a lot, and there were many irritations. Living in two different places became a burden. I felt more and more estranged from Amsterdam, spending all that time in the train, travelling back and forth. This had been going on for five years already.
When we met, she had been working as a secretary, just as \#7 by the way, but soon after that her contract ended. Only towards the end she found other work, volunteer work, unpaid. The work give her asense of value,=20 and some structure in her life as well. I expected that our relation would improve because of that, but it actually became more difficult. She was even less inclined to come to Amsterdam.
Being with my son, the three of us together, was often difficult. She experienced it as a loss of time. She thought I was giving him too much attention, allowing her only to take in the second position. She gave in too easily, I think. I often encouraged her to be assertive and claim her place.
The last four months we were together, we saw eachother irregularly, and usually I had to come to her place to see her at all. She was a bit vague about the status of our relation and kept me at a space.eliens.net>distance. To think about what she wanted to do with her life, she said. Nevertheless, we went to one of the Dutch islands with Christmas and we also planned to spend a weekend in Paris together.
The hotel room was cold.
We undressed quickly.
She had a bandage around her right upper leg.
From an operation to remove tissue, she explained.
I touched her breast, lightly.
She got excited and said: "You love women, don't you."
"Yes", I said.
I licked her briefly, and entered her.
Later, she told me that never had anyone made love to her that way.
In a classical way, so lovingly.
At breakfast, my student (who was accompanying me)
was surprised to see me with
the girl from the conference desk.
But we acted very natural, had breakfast and drove
to the institute where the conference was held.
Before leaving, to meet \#6 at the station,=20
I went to see her.
She looked radiant, her lips curling in a smile.
I knew something important had happened.
At the airport, we took a taxi to our hotel. The weather was hot and damp. It was around noon. We decided to have a look at the sea and ended up on a small beach, where a taxi took us. Not exactly what we expected. We went back to the hotel, by bus and taxi. I felt clumsy with the language. Nobody seemed to speak English. In front of the hotel, she felt sick and fainted. I was just in time to prevent her falling on the street. The staff in the hotel asked whether they should call a doctor. No, I said, no problem, we are just married and my wife is pregnant. I was worried.
She wanted to sleep a little and I went out with my son. I took the guide with me. We had a sandwich and I tried to figure out what to do. I decided that we should go to a little island nearby. The next day we took a boat. On the boat we quarrelled about whether the hotel should have airXing. I hated the noise. "We have to get used to the climate", I said. "Without airXing, I'll die", she said. At the island we took two rooms in a simple hotel, with airXing. After taking a little rest, we went to the beach. She walked around and talked with the guys renting equipment, scooters and watersport gear. She was restless. At the end of the afternoon, she decided to go waterskiing. We went in the boat and after trying a few times, she skied along the harbor. I also tried to ski. I got up alright, but could not hold for more than a hunderd meters. Returning to the beach, I noticed that I had lost the sunglasses she borrowed me. I went back to look for them. She was angry, but said: "They were very expensive, but these things can happen."
She started critizing me. "You don't give me any challenge", she said. "The challenge I'm offering you is to travel and visit the ruins with me", I answered.
On our way back to the hotel, she discovered that she was loosing water from between her legs. It seemed to be plain seawater, but nevertheless she was worried. I tried to calm her, but I was a little worried too. She suggested to call her gynacologist in Paris the next day. I consented, although I knew the gynacologist would just say "calm down, take it easy, give yourself a rest".
Since my son was still sleeping, we went into the town. She got excited about all the shops. I dragged along. She went into a jewelry shop and bought herself a necklace, proud at making a good bargain. "Isn't it nice?", she asked me. "Yes, it is beautiful", I shrugged. "They have the most wonderful silver her, and very cheap", she said. I kept silent. I am not here for the silver, I thought. We went to eat a pizza. "You're not much fun", she said. "I hate places like this", I said. I was worried.
The next day we went out for a snorkeling trip. We had to wait a long time before we finally got going. In the boat there was another couple, Spanish, just married. The attractions -- tropical fish, a tame shark, a meal -- were rather shallow. A complete rip-off. Nevertheless, we stayed friendly, and I gave the boatsmen a tip. Coming ashore, she saw a jewelry shop she wanted to visit. "I am going to the hotel", my son said. He was tired. I went with her to the shop and we looked at diamonds and other kinds of stones. All very expensive. "Look at the bracelets", she said. "Yes, they look nice", I said. She tried a few on. I was getting bored and annoyed. Is she going to buy something again, I thought. Suddenly she said: "Why don't you wait outside, and ... eh give me my creditcard." I went out, furious, and saw my son waiting. He had not been able to find the hotel. I gave him directions and went back inside. She was still busy. "Go to the hotel", she said. I did, but went back immediately. I found her in one of the streets, heated. "I couldn't find the hotel", she said. "Where were you?" Back in the hotel, we quarrelled. I went out. But since it started raining, I went back. Then she got dressed and went out. After an hour she came back. "I have been crying in the streets", she said. "And I called a friend, we must talk." "Calm down", I said. "This is not such a big thing, we are both exhausted." "No", she said. "What is happening is a real psychodrama." Something was wrong. "I am worried about the baby, I can't stand the heat, and you don't give me any strength", she said. "I am worried for you, and worried about the trip", I said. Then she told me she had been thinking about her ex-lover these last days and felt very distant from me. Afterwards she confessed that it had been her ex-lover that she called that day. It was only our second day on vacation. I was worried.
The next day, we went to see an archeological site. It was a long trip by private car. She was complaining about the heat. On the way back, she told me that this could not go on. She wanted to go back. To Paris. To her doctors, to take care of the baby, and to speak to friends. "Oh no", I said. "Don't, let's try and find a solution here."
The following days, we did all the usual things. We went to the beach, ate in restaurants. We talked and talked. But nothing seemed to help. She kept on critizing me, that I had no humor and that I was a sad person. We could only speak with eachother in English. It was difficult. Finally, I decided to help with arranging a flight to=20 Amsterdam for her. The seventh day, I took her to the airport. On the boat to the mainland I cried in her arms and apologized for my behavior. At the airport, I was in doubt whether I shouldn't have gone with her. I probably should have done so. Before leaving, I asked her to be strong. "Don't take any premature decisions", I said her. "We will work things out, when I get back." I told her that this was a normal thing in a relation and that we must take it as an opportunity to get to know eachother better. She seemed to be happy to leave. I was worried.
I LOVE YOU
Being on my own with nobody to talk to except my son, I wrote her letters, desperately.
You said you wanted to be a young woman, I wanted you to be my wife, as a young woman. The last week you behaved like a child. Your mind went back to an ex-lover, who has been as a father to you. I want to be the father of our child. I do not want to be your father. The choice is yours. Do you want to be a young woman? And if so, do you (still) want to be my wife? (Say simply YE= S!)
We made quite some noise when getting married. It was a great event, but when our marriage fails, I cannot consider it other than as a big circus. Moreover, I would feel terribly embarrassed in front of my family and friends. If we break up, I will have to apologize with a note like:
Passionate.=20 The dream has become a nightmare. We are divorced.=20 Sorry for all the noise we made.
Speaking honestly, my worst expectation is that it can not work. You have judged me, you have terrorized me with your criticisms. You want me to comply to all your wishes and you make not a single effort to see what my needs are. Nor do you wish to accept that my moods and feelings include sadness and depression. I have seen my father die, heavily depressed. Depression, one way or another, is part of me. If you cannot accept that, if you do not love me as I am, then our marriage can not work. That is obvious. Why did I trust you, when you said that you loved me?
..., it was so good to hear you on the telephone. Your voice sounded close. I was happy to hear you say that you would not take a decision on your own. This is as it should be. Remember the times we called, Amsterdam-Paris and cross-atlantic. I now do have the feeling that some space.eliens.net>distance will do us good. To be apart in order to be together. My worst fear that our decision to marry was based on a fantasy might not come through! Hurray!!
I realized, walking through the ruins, that our (little?) psychodrama centers around words: spoilt,=20 sad, humor, french, budget, money, style (?), happy, worried, responsability, strength ... and probaly some more. Each of these words has a particular meaning, a meaning which is possibly (!) different for the both of us. One single word, not in the list, but maybe even more important is=20 language. (Another, by the way, is effort.) Is it a language problem that we have, or is it=20 simply difficult?
Another difficult word, as heavily loaded with meaning as marriage, is divorce. Is making a non-fun joke a reason for divorce? Is making a long face when your wife buys a piece of jewelry a reason for divorce? Or do these things add up to something, such as attitude, which is a reason for divorce? After one week in a tropical climate ... Not many would think of these as valid reasons for divorce. The only valid reason is the marriage itself. If we consider our marriage to be foolish, then we must divorce.
My mind is slowly calming down. Last night I had a horrible dream. We were at a place somewhere and suddenly you screamed. Your right hand had been squashed. You pushed at the deformed flesh. I said, stop it.
I am sure you would have liked it here, except for the heat. I wonder whether I should have taken the decision to go the the mountains rightaway. But no decision seemed right that first night. Do I have to blame my indecisiveness or just the heat?
We do have a problem. I can blame myself for my behavior with respect to the jewelry (the silver necklace and bracelet) you bought for yourself. So I did. I have to keep up better appearances than I did. Nevertheless, the incidents represent.eliens.net>present our difference in view with regard to our holidays. Buying things would be natural once we would be in the right spirit of being there ... Am I right, or am I simply defending myself? Anyway, I can see that such a small sum of money is not worth the problems we had. But, again, I think we have to find a way to organize our life money-wise. A way that suits us both! It is urgent!
The jewelry looked lovely on you. Let me not forget to say that. I am glad that you had the courage, or insight, to wear them before you left. It gave me a chance to appreciate them in context. Why do you doubt that I find you beautiful? I do, and I did tell you. Actually, in our mind-game last week, you made me feel terrible. Don't live with me if you find me really disgusting. I was terrified, but I don't think I deserve that. (Putting it mildly!) But naturally, I want your love.
I did not say=20 welcome in= my life to you to let you go so soon. I feel a bit out of place here. My (favorite) place is with you. I was angry before writing this. I thought about your father saying: She is a= n expensive girl. My reaction was one of space.eliens.net>distance. I can offer you what I have to give, no more and no less. I can swallow my pride. But not indefinitely. I want a relation based on mutuality and equality.
Freedom is a doubly-edged (s)word. If you want more freedom, eventually I will want more. If one of us starts fucking around, the other will inevitably follow. If we have too much freedom, we will break up. If we have too little, we will be suffocated. We will have to find the right way to deal with our individual freedom. Within a couple, freedom works if it is based on=20 trust. But trust requires effort. Without trust, we will become solitary. We know that style.
What does our marriage mean to me? It means, before anything else, commitment= . Commitment based on love, naturally. I felt, this morning, that you should have been here with me. But I know, being here with my son would be impossible as well. Nevertheless, you should not have left me. I hope things will turn out right, so that I will be able to let this feeling of disappointment go. Our whole trip seemed wrong from the start. Is it the <= i>mechanics of a post-marital depression? If so, we should be able to repair everything. We are in the right to define our life together as we wish. Let's do it together and be open to the possible directions it may take. You have enriched my life. I want to enrich yours.
What do I see as a solution to our problem? The marriage, all the excitement before, and finding that you were pregnant, has obviously meant a shock to the both of us. I do not think we dealt very well with that. But let's not overdramatize it. We must simply try. That means for the coming year, you must go to school and learn Dutch. I want us to be together during the pregnancy,=20 and after that to raise our child. The budget problem can be solved. The culture.html">cultur= e problem, I am not so sure. But we should be able to find a solution for that. In due time, a Paris-Amsterdam solution may be the only option. But not before we have tried, for at least a year.
Strangely enough, the things that happened between us remind me of my two-month affair with \#4, the girl with the big car and the big tits. She had this ongoing thing with her ex-lover, and I could not trust her on her word.
Words, as you know, are very important to me. The reason I promise little is that I find the words spoken often inappropriate, or even untruthful.
Last night, I dreamt that two black guys came to pick you up to visit some fighting match. But before that they were going to beat me up. In the bus, I felt very unhappy, sad that you were not there with me. I was wondering what you were up to at that moment.
I think you have treated me badly. I know, however, that I was not nice as well. I guess I was a bit at a loss, not knowing how to deal with the situation. These days, I keep wondering how I could have organized our trip in a way that you would have enjoyed it. But I guess that with the pregnancy and the nausea that comes with it, this would have been an almost impossible job.
The indefiniteness of our situation worries me. The words we will see are=20 familiar to me and evoke painful memories. In the end, if there is no decision, there will be nothing to be seen left. The two we will see's I experienced before both involved the presence of another lover. With \#1 it was her wish to have something with \#2. Well, you know how that turned out. With \#4 it had to do with her ex-lover. Knowing your story, I am not sure whether I can trust you, when you say that all is finished. But maybe I am paranoid, we will see.
Money has always been a problem, one way or another. The least so with \#1. Although we had little money, we almost never quarrelled about it. Only sometimes we had a difference of opinion on how to spent it. Anyhow, most of the time we lived apart, with separate accounts.
With \#6, money was a problem. She complained a lot. She had only a small income, so usually I had to pay for her, which meant we could not do things as easily as with a double income. In the five years we were together, I gave \#6 a lot of money. We could never come to some kind of agreement, though. The result was simply space.eliens.net>distance ... You are the first I share my money with. No small thing, indeed. Yet, again there are problems.
I figured that=20 we should be able to living together with my income. Practically, I think a budget of ... and ... for each of us might be feasible. There is not much room left then, however.
Money has always meant security<= /i> for me, and independence. Without money, I feel in somesense weak, without power, without co= ntrol. I feel best when there is a little reserve. The last four months with you, I spent all my reserves. This was necessary, but I can't say I feel comfortable with it.
Maybe you expected more money with me, seeing how I spent money the first months. Now there is simply less. I feel that the only solution is to share responsability and discuss budgets. In september, we must be able to make a clean start after all the bills are paid.
You may find my attitude.ht= ml">attitude towards money narrow-minded or even boring, but with my profession there is not much room for an adventurous style, which I detest anyway. But let's be clear about one thing, I have never been judgemental about how people spent their own money! Or have I?
Marriage has never been on my list before I met you. Yet, living together with a woman has been=20 a long standing desire. So, in a way, it was natural to ask you to marry me and live with me. If it doesn't work, we can consider our marriage as a joke, and probably laugh at it, sometimes. However, it would also be tragic, since with you I can realize my dream to live with a woman, to share emotions, feelings, and to be daily in eachother's bodily presence. I miss you, and I hope this is only a brief intermission in a long standing relation. Bodily and mentally we are close.
I guess we have to learn to adapt to eachothers=20 style.html">style. I keep wondering why we had such a clash of style, and what to do about it. Now and in the future. Both \#1 and \#6 have complained about me having no eye for the small things= of life, the things that seem to make life worth living. Our clash seems, however, of a somewhat different nature. It may be better characterized as the difference between a poor man's travelling style and the expectations of one who is used to luxury, or at least that everything is organized.
I keep wondering whether you would have liked the=20 trip we are now having, sitting at the plaza, walking over the market, admiring the products of craft ... However, there are also long bus rides, and consequently, waiting at the busstation, sleeping in the bus. Is this something my precious wife would be willing to do?
I keep looking at my=20 ring and wonder whether it is still valid. It is hard to imagine, we have been just married for two weeks!! Occassionally I glance at a girl, but I just want you! Anyway, my son likes the trip very much, it has been planned for him. I was stupid to drag you along.
Is is, after all, a=20 dilemma.html">dilemma between the interest of my son and the interests of the one I love? The dilemma of split attention. The afternoon you bought the bracelet, my son went to the hotel on his own, complaining. Will you excuse me for my face? I just was not in the mood for buying jewelry!
When we get over this (our psychodrama and the fact you left) we still need to think how to deal with such situations in the future. That is, quarrels and holidays. However, if it is all due to our fear and anxiety of being married, then there may be nothing to solve at all. Then we first need to rescue our marriage ...
You accused me of lacking strength<= /i>, of being a sad= person. What can I say? Did I loose my 'cool' or was it just an impossible situation? I am only human. For this I need not defend myself. Tell me, how can I have fun in an impossible situation? It seems the trip was not going to work. Let's resume life! How can I laugh when our marriage is suddenly in a crisis. I'll probably not laugh for years when all this goes wrong. Feeling lonely is no fun.
My god, this is a test! How can I make you stay with me, for the rest of our life. How I miss you! Looking at the couples around me, I feel the pain of not being with you, the solitude.
My seriousness. My seriousness that you loved. What happened? Why did you suddenly detest it? How stressed we were, in the heat, the noise, the ugliness of the place, the commercial agression. I felt you regressed. I know I did. What am I doing here, without you? There are about ten more days to go. No girl is as beautiful as you. I asked you to marry me because I wanted you to be my wife. Now that you've married me, I simply ask you to be my wife, and live with me!
We have fallen in love. You moved in with me. We got your things. We started improving the house. We got married.=20 The marriage was a lovely day. I said yes, you said yes. Everybody seemed happy. At the end of the day you fainted. The next day we discovered you were pregnant. We were married, but also tired, irritated, worried and anxious. After what should have been our wedding-night we did not wake up in paradise, but with a hangover instead. Mentally and physically. Everything that happened afterwards made it worse, for the both of us. Yourself-centered behavior and my narrow-minded money worries. It made you angry when I said it, but you behaved like a spoilt, demanding child. Why do you think you are always in the right? Who do you think you are? Why do you think, anyway, that you can have it your way? Maybe, this is precisely what you mean by=20 strength= . The one that is best at taking=20 space.eliens.net>distance.html">space.eliens.net>distance<= /i> wins. My sister played that game with me, when I was a kid. I was scared to death of being left alone. This is still a weak spot. Don't touch it too often!
It is sad, the only thing I can do is write you = letters. I am sorry I can not be there with you, but I have my responsabi= lities towards my son. I thought you knew what you were doing when you married me. It is difficult to discover that you, apparently, did not. Anyway, we have to deal with the situation as it is.
I still have to get used to the idea that you carry our=20 child= . I still have to get used to that ... The ultimate question is, do you want to do it together with me, in one way or another, or do you want to do it on your own. If you want to have the child with me and be my wife, we will find some solution.
If you don't want that let's separate elegantly and divorce.This evoked a reaction, her only reaction to my letter: "Yes, let's do it elegantly." Well, I did. Didn't I?
But I also wrote:
Actually, I don't want to speak of divorce. Not after one week of marriage.Please, let us try to live our dream!
In retrospect, we cannot say we have not been warned. Check it out, they said. No need, you said. Aren't you going fast? Yes, I said, but we seem to be certain. Obviously, we were not. You were not.
Were we totally naive to get married? I don't think I was, I wanted you to be part of my life. I thought marriage was a way to secure that. Looking back, the marriage seems to have done the opposite. It seems to have initiated the end of our relation.
I just can not stop thinking of you. Optimistic one time, and then pessimistic again. I just hope your decision is not, without you admitting it, no. I think you are taking a great risk by reconsidering your love for your ex-lover. I cannot stand living in the fear of losing you. I closed my history, with no escape. You suddenly seem not to have done so. Our psychodrama seemed unavoidable. I felt your projections and could not move. It killed the light in my eyes. It is you who has to make the effort to regain my confidence. I miss you terribly, and my heart cramps when I think of the future, and the idea that the decision is yours. Marriage has never been a thing I wanted on my C.V. Your destructiveness has taken me by surprise. Am I struggling for a lost battle? Look into yourself and answer me!
Yes, I cracked. I panicked. So what? If you are not able to live with that, fuck you! You crack all the time. I was sad. Yes, very sad. Don't tell me you're so happy, so full of life. Tell me, what did you see that scared you so? What is it that you feared, that made you humiliate me? If you feel disgust, fuck you! What do you think I feel?
If you want to know the truth, I was quite disappointed with the way you were. Avoiding all responsabilities, flirting with the beachboys. You were friendly to everyone but me. And then, the buying of the necklace and the bracelet. Do you realize you turned your back on me? Is this all because of my long face? But I know my long face, and I know what it expressed. I was not in the mood. Maybe it is better that we finish the whole thing. Don't make me suffer too much. Maybe you are too difficult for me, too irrational. I will probably be very unhappy if I have to=20 live up to an image that is not me. I must stop writing, this leads to nowhere. Perhaps, I must stop living, since that also seem to lead to nowhere.
You even told my mother that you loved me. She indicated don't tell me, that she knew. Why did you use words without understanding them? Why did you have the need to play young woman<= /i> with me? And why do you act again as a child? Do you still expect to be loved as before?
It started in the plane. You told me not to look at you in that worried way. From then on you kept on killing the light in my eyes. Everything I did or said was wrong. Even the things I did not say or do. That was a very cruel game. I have not been happy since, and I dread the moment I will see you again, afraid that our love is dead and the game continues. I'd rather die.
Sitting at the airport, a few more hours to go. Remembering how you left, only two weeks ago. Wondering, are we still in a state of marriage? What will become of us? Longing to be with you. Yet afraid. I am feeling very lonely. Excited, but also somewhat in despair. Hopeful, but in a tempered way. With no one, time has been such a torture as with you. It will be difficult, but we must forget this episode and continue with our lives. Together? Together!!
YES, I AM HERE
=20
Please, can you read=20
this mail before
"any comment" --
Let's say "hello" anyhow
=20
Thank you
..., I am carrying your baby since two months now. You are the father of this baby. So what shall we do concerning our child? What part of moral and financial responsability are you willing to take, towards me and your child? Being divorced, I must have the responsability to=20 raise this child with your help and your support and your love for the child if you accept to recognize your child legally. For the time being you must know that my pregnancy has to be medically followed in Paris, as the doctor told me, and I have to give birth in a clinic in Paris. It is imperative for the health of our child and for my own health. I don't know how much you can and are willing to help and support me. ..., in our immense failure of marrying, we have consiously desired to have a baby. We are responsible now. I am ready to try and be the best mother in the world for our baby if you help and support me. Let's act as mature adults, it is very, very serious. We are talking here about being responsable of a human life that I am now carrying in my womb. ..., I know all this sounds brutal and cruel, but we are paying=20 today the price of our mad and immature dream, of our "connerie". Meaning, a divorce and a child to love in difficult Xs. I guess, also, that it would be wiser to get divorced before the baby is born. The price to pay is heavy, but we have no choice! So, we need to see eachother face to face to speak out, but writing to you permits me to announce the drama in a more clear way. I am profoundly shocked. I can not sleep anymore, nights and days are a nightmare. I am very depressed and deeply upset with love and life. I am disrupted. I am trying to eat for me and for the baby in a generous way! I am not restrained foodwise, and it is imperative for a pregnant woman to eat. But I have a lung infection (breast). Anyway, I still have a little courage, thanks to the very little help I scrape around me ... Don't forget to speak TRUE and REAL, even if truth hurts sometimes.
Do you think that it would be better if you came and speak to me in Paris, or do you want me to come right away to Amsterdam? Call me now, please. =20
All this was just after she was on the phone with her aunt, who had just stated that she "was on my side." In effect, the whole family seems to be on my side. I am, her aunt said, (still) regarded as "a lovely man" and a "beautiful person". Not so long ago, \#7 thought the same thing. Now (suddenly?) she has changed her mind. I wonder what role her ex-lover has played in this. Or, it may only be the memory of an eight year relationship. Nevertheless, it is quite annoying that a 'previous' relation plays such a role, any role to be more precise. "To be clear and precise", that is one of the favorite mottos of her. Probably taken from him. On the phone, I heard how he keeps on talking and talking, embedding her in a flood of words. This is probably what she expected from me. To be nurtured by sweet or directive or advisory talk.
Last night, she told me quite frankly that she was actually bluffed by my coming to New York in march. It was impressive indeed. Later she found out that things were only possible as long as the budget lasts. After that I do get "stingy". That is what she told her family, that I am stingy. Stingy indeed. What can you expect from a Dutchmen. On our holidays, the problem became really apparent. Actually, we went there with quite different goals. She to make fun, or with no goal at all, whereas I went there to do the archeological sites with my son. I did see the sites. But not until after she left, having been there only six days. Did that cost me my marriage? That is something to ponder on. Could this marriage have been saved? Would that have been possible? And the child she is still carrying, for probably only two days more? I doubt that, but I will never be sure. A quick ending is probably the best solution! Easy come and easy go! No strings attached. That's life. My life. I wonder what course it will take from now. Where will I be when I am fifty? Will I always find such a cheap solution?
I let myself get adrift in hating you. Pitying you is equally dangerous. Are you brainwashed or just fucked up? Never have I known anyone so=20 out of touch. So incapable of touch. I cannot fool myself by thinking that you have ever loved me. I just enchanted you, temporarily. If this is not true, you'll have to prove me otherwise. What more can I say? I am very disappointed. And I must calm down, live with it.
Walking on the street, I tried to formulate my requests to you:
Now you are on the phone with your aunt. I hear the way your voice goes up and down. Everything we do from now on, I want to do step by step. I do not want to deconstruct as fast as we constructed=20 'our life together'. From my side, I still love you. It feels as if I have no other option for living. I am asking to be dead, when I let you go voluntarily. I desperately want a 'normal' life with YOU. I just can't see an afterlife. Please come back to me. Despite my fear, my anger, my hate, I did not stop loving you, nor did I stop hoping for a life with you. =20
Nothing needs to be done anymore, but the one dreadful thing. The abortion. Neither of us dared to look at children today. Despite the happiness of our recovered freedom and the short moment together, sadness prevails. We are both still in a state of shock. Of despair. Everything we have built up so carefully over these last months has been destructed at high speed. What lasts is the memory of some beautiful, lovely months together. Even if our minds are fucked up, our chemistry is still perfect. And it has been almost all the time. A once in a lifetime affair.
Her aunt has warned me that she is stubborn. When fixed, apparently, nothing can change her mind. A desperate girl, however beautiful. Too fucking idiot, andself-centered. Unable to compromise. Yet scared as hell for any antagonism. Impossible. One thing, however, has become very clear to me today, it is she who has a problem with money, at least as much as I do. She is all the time referring to money and to the value of things money-wise. How beautiful is it to spend money like crazy and have no money at all!
Money and in particular my attitude towards money has been her problem during our holidays and before. Preparing our marriage, we spoke about budgets and she said she was willing to learn how to deal with the money aspect. She told \#1 that she has never met a man with such a horrible attitude towards money. She is now starting to see that that is a Dutch trait. Too late. It won't do me any good,=20 and I am less willing to change my attitude than before. I have never been so generous, and I was simply not happy with the way she spent money. I have been generous as well in the amount of money I spent on her as in the way I offered her to share my income. That made her feel dependent, and therefore furious.
YES I ENJOYED THAT BUT I LOVED THE INTIMACY=20 BETTERI added, on a piece folded away:
ANYWAY I'LL MISS YOUto which you added:
ME TOOI am glad you did. But I doubt whether I was wrong to feel=20 proud, to take value from our relation. Did I let something sick take over? Did I?
Yesterday, \#1, her partner and my son came for a visit. I could not help but express my anger. May I be angry? I did not get a fair chance. After returning from our holidays, I was confronted with a decision. She had her mind fixed and despite all the emotions we went through, it could not be changed. Now, the feelings between us are rather cold. Polite, but nothing more. Despite what I still feel for her, in a way, the chance of getting anything out of this seems nil. Maybe, another woman to make love to will cure the pain.
After the visit, we went on our bikes to the Vondelpark. It was such a lovely day. Just like an ordinary sunday. She bought a joint and we sat on the grass, smoking.html">smoking. Smoking got us in this different=20 reality, in which we have been often during our relation. She did her superiority-act, saying that she has already helped me a lot, and that to her the cause of our failure lies simply in the fact that I am=20 narcistic, having looked at our relation too much from=20 the outside. Later, I wrote her a note saying that I had to admit I enjoyed that, but that I loved our intimacy too. She did not remember what I was referring to. Nevertheless, I was struck by the remark, or was I simply stoned, and I had to lie down. This feeling of paralysis has still not completely left me. So, whatever way I take it, there must be a truth in it. Before the marriage, external affairs took over. Getting dressed up, be friendly, organize 1001 things, and keeping up the image of a couple. Indeed, she is a beautiful girl. It especially strikes me when we are in the company of others. On our holidays, however, I did not like the view of us as a couple at all. Neither did she, I think. It felt like a burden, she seemed to be out on flirting with the guys, when I was worrying about almost anything: our next destination, the money, the heat, my son, my skin, how I looked, etcetera. I simply worried non-stop, at full speed, my head spinning like crazy, playing out all possible options, trying to meet the demands I felt being imposed on me. Help! Help! Why did she not simply caress<= /a> me and say "calm down", as I have so often done to her? Simply, because she did not love me enough? Because for her this was a simple dream, an escape from another reality, a fantasy that she went in without thinking, without=20 strategy.html">strategy<= /i>. Realizing that she would be trapped in a fully-cliche marriage -- with the husband going to work and the wife doing the cooking and the washing, waiting to be made love to in the evening after a day full of boredom -- she cracked after processing this all on her own (with only the support of her ex-lover), and she decided that this could NOT go on. Well, it didn't!
"When I am gone, you will feel it as a relief", she said. Probably. Anyway, the situation as it is cannot go on, not after everything that happened, the divorce and abortion. So I will drive her to Paris with her stuff, to end our relation as elegantly and efficiently as we have begun it. But what remains is the feeling of a loss. Immensely. A bitter truth. I am the looser, because she did not accept my love. She was the strongest, as always, because she didn't commit. The one who is leaving simply has the strongest cards. Is it a mental problem? No, she said, it is a real problem. And I must admit, given the fact that I have not been able to share my life with anyone (she was the seventh), there is not much left than to blame myself. I have been on an ego-trip, a fit of narcism you may say, all along. But not without loving her, though. Neither can she deny that I did commit. I kept every promise I made. That does not mean I am a good guy. I have stumbled on my inability to share my life, my thoughts, my feelings in a way that satisfied her. Apparently, I could not do it. Could not, due to a lack of experience, an inability to love, not loving her intensively enough, aself-centered mind, an appearance-driven attitude towards life?
She had been feeling lonely. The days I was at work, she was desperate, unable to start building up a new life, not motivated to develop new roots and disappointed by my=20 lack of attention for this. She found me too much centered in my own world, I left her out. And yes, in a way I did. I did expect more effort from her, more questions, more attention. Instead of shopping, she should have done something seriously. But that proved to be difficult. Anyhow, with everything that came on top of that, she cracked and fucked up. "I don't want to wait all day for you to come home", she said. She wanted to have her own life, in Paris.
In Paris, we drove to the studio of her ex-lover. A big place, white, without windows. I liked the place, though. We unpacked the van, and spoke about the situation. I went with her to the hotel, to have a shower before going out to eat.
Walking in Paris to the restaurant had the appearance of a vacation. I was looking at the buildings. I felt like a simple guy walking in a big city. I offered her a normal life. But suddenly, after the marriage, she decided she did not want a normal life. She wanted 'intelligent conversation', which means 'existentialist brainstorming' as her ex-lover pointed out during diner. French conversation, she meant.=20 She wanted to go back to Paris. She didn't want to become a fat Dutch girl, she said. And she didn't want to live with me anymore. Can I blame her for that?
The day after, I drove the car back to Amsterdam. I came home, in the apartment we shared for these months. The apartment was empty. How do I start a new life, I asked myself. I don't know. I simply don't know.
I hear the crying of a baby in the street. Why did you have to kill our child? In a month's time everything we cared for has been destroyed. What is the logic behind this? We lived a dream and woke in a trauma. What will be our life after this?
This is the most cruel thing you could have done. You did it. Why did you suddenly change your feelings towards me? Why did you destroy our love, my life? For you it may be sad, to me it is unfair.
Also on the dark side, it has turned out that she combined the properties of all the other women I loved. She has been as agressive as \#1 has ever been. She has been as obscure and ego-centered as \#2 at her worst. She acted as passive and helpless as \#3. She proved to be as unreliable as \#4, and played an equally mean game. She appeared to be as ignorant as \#5, and was irritated as easily as \#6. It all turned against me. I collapsed. Within a month, she destroyed everything we did to build our life together, in a fury of indifference, hate and anger.
She not only ruined my life, but she has also spoilt my holidays. I had been working hard, and I needed some vacation. We were both stressed, after all the preparations for the wedding. At our holidays we were unable to speak with eachother. Not speaking our own language turned against us. We spoke with eachother in a flat and humerless way. It was sad. We were sad. I tried to follow her in her moods. She said I shouldn't have merged with her. But I was already dependent on her for my happiness. Is that wrong? I wish she had merged with me a little more.
Incidentally, I read that malaria pills may cause psychotic behavior. Was she mad? When I was asked whether I thought she was mad, I gave an inconclusive answer, speaking about complex dependencies and a difficult history. How could I think she was mad? I loved her. I knew I was blocked after the wedding. We had to grow into our roles. But, of course, she acted in a crazy way. Just imagine, how would everybody have reacted when I would have done such a thing, ending the marriage after a week!
I expected her to act as a mature woman, instead of panicking as a child. Her anxiety may have been caused by a hormonal blast due to the pregnancy, and the heat. But I admit that I don't take life easy, that it may be difficult to enjoy life with me. I understand, also, that our marriage may have suddenly felt like a trap, a trap for life. I feel ashamed, deeply ashamed. I walk with my face down. Humiliated. I tell myself, that I must not feelself-pity, but that I must accept. I must be humble and accept life as it is.
I am desperate about the failure of our marriage. But thinking about myself, who I was and who I am, I can see how difficult it must have been. Nevertheless, I tried to make it work. I was willing to change, to open up my life, my house, to share my money and my feelings. But she didn't give me the time. She panicked at the thought of leading a married life. She didn't take the time herself to adapt to a new life. She escaped, before we even tried. I know we could have had a wonderful life together. =20
I gambled and I lost. I knew there were uncertainties. It was too beautiful to be true. Reading in my diary, going back for more than ten years, I was surprised how little I have changed. As an example: "I may better go to bed then continuing this narcistic attempt at catching a reflection of myself in a mirror of irony." The irony may be less evident, but I am still narcistic, as the story testifies. I know I am vain. My vanity has played its part in the whole affair. It may be one of the main reasons, our relation didn't work. It is me, but still I am sorry we failed.
As another example: "I see my think.eliens.net>intellectual life as my only defense against the destructive powers of demanding women." Well put! I have to take up my work again. There is no other way!
Another example: "On the surface, what I lack is enthousiasm and courage. However, on deeper analysis, what I lack is basically trust.= " I know I need to learn to trust, more than anything else.
Yet another example: "The ideal of one single total relation seems not to be feasible, for me." Well, it didn't work. But I wanted it badly, whereas I didn't at the time of writing that.
I also saw a poem I copied one of the other times I was in pain when a love story ended:
Yet each man kills the thing he loves ... Some do it with a bitter look, Some with a flattering word. The coward does it with a kiss, The brave man with a sword.It is from Oscar Wilde. I may have kissed her too much, to avoid the confrontation with the problems involved in living a life together.
What I learned from reading my diary, not that I didn't know, is that I have chased after women in a fanatic and confused way. I meant it seriously this time though, but obviously that doesn't change anything. The way it ended was characteristic, fatally so. Anyway, if I was out for only another story as I have been before, I could have been satisfied. But I am not. This has been my last story. I want life! =20
I want to love you every day and every night
and treat you right.
Is this love I am feeling?
Yes, I know now.
I threw my coins on your table.
We'll be together with a roof
right over our heads
and share the same shelter.
A few days after she left, I called her. "How are you?" She sounded like a plant. Hibernating, sheltered in the milieu she had tried to escape. I doubt whether I will ever see her again.
looked for: sweet, beautiful, slim, young woman;
by: sweet, shy, slim, arrogant man (43, 180, ac)
with 1/2 child.
=20
There were only two responses.
One of them was \#8.
As a bonus, she was quite smart as well,
although limited in her interests.
Dear Daisy you make me crazy, but I love it, every bit of it, shit.
Going up a mountain track, I fell to thinking. Approach everything rationally, and you become harsh. Pole along on the stream of emotions, and you will be swept away by the current. Give free rein to your desires, and you become uncomfortably confined. It is not a very agreeable place to live, this world of ours.
This is more or less what I meant when I told you I didn't want
to become too soft.
Still I am convinced that I would lose your respect if I
wouldn't be able to contain myself.
Anyway, I probably would loseself respect, which might even be worse.
It is like kicking of a habit. I miss your email. I feel alienated waking up without looking in your eyes. =20 PS Let me know when you're in A.