The Final Curtain

Silence.

"And now you throw that you are unhappy in my face! After twenty fucking years of enduring all of this, the rat race, after everything I have done to make sure you were kept as trouble-free as possible! While I was the one with the shorter straw in pretty much everything! But still persevered! But you are right. If you are living with a non-man, even if you have cut his balls yourself, he still is a non-man, and you cannot be happy with him. I truly understand Alice. At least your life was trouble-free. If not happy."

She looked deflated.

"I can understand that trouble-free doesn't equal happy, but it IS better than not being trouble-free, right?... Or is it?" I asked, rhetorically. I already knew the answer to this question. Thank God for my preparation.

"Anyway, now that things are out there in the open, please do tell me, what is it that you are unhappy about, Alice? I do have the morbid curiosity to hear this."

She truly looked anxious, to say the least. She kept silent for a bit, as if trying to find the words to say what she wanted to say.

"I... I tried to tell you already. Nothing in my life makes me happy anymore. I... I just go through the motions."

"Really? So all this, your creation, this is a lie? Like all the parties you throw for your friends? All the girls nights out that you have all the time? All the fundraising you do for the charities? All the household chores and the cooking you never do, as I am paying for hired help from my own pocket, even though it is YOU that doesn't want to do these things? Because they make you feel like 'the slave of the house', your words by the way? All the house modifications and decorations and all this shit that YOU wanted and I payed for? Your car that I bought? Our cabin that you chose to be were YOU wanted it and I payed for? All this, which is custom-made for you, make you unhappy? Well, if it truly is so, it is a golden cage you built on your own and shut yourself in it. You slaved me to custom-build it for you. And now it makes you unhappy."

Silence.

"You make me feel like I should feel guilty for the way I feel, Bob! You have turned from depicting me a phony, evil, unethical super-vamp, to now depicting me a childish spoilt brat! And a disillusioned woman, drowned in her own vanity! At least do me the favor of deciding what I am!" she said, clearly distraught.

"I am just stating the facts, Alice. Is there something that I just said that is not one hundred percent real? Did I lie or exaggerate on anything? All the things I mentioned, did you not want them? And didn't I deliver them all, no questions asked? Did I lie or exaggerate here?"

Silence, yet again.

"I didn't think so. So, we both agree that what we have is basically custom-made for you and paid in full by me. So, I am still waiting for you to tell me what makes you unhappy. So far, your life seems to be about you and you alone. So what part of your Alice-centered life makes you unhappy?", I said, sarcasm evident. Well rehearsed, too.

"If this is the way this is going to play out, I have had enough. I refuse to continue this conversation! I am sick and tired of being accused of every evil out there, plus being the equivalent of an immature selfish kid. You are not a saint yourself Bob, so stop patronizing me!" she said in total exasperation.

"Really, Alice? What unsaintly thing have I done to you? As far as you go, saint is, at the very least, exactly what I have been! Especially given your treatment of me! Not just a saint! Fucking Job straight out of the Holy Book! And if this ain't right, I challenge you to tell me what I have ever done that doesn't fit the description perfectly!"

"You self-righteous asshole!" she threw at me, boiling with anger. I could see the rage in her eyes, and that alone was very hurtful. She did want to throw some sort of retort, I could see it. She struggled to find something to throw at me. The sad truth, however, is that I treated her like royalty. And that was probably my downfall.

"The silence is deafening, my loving wife. You can't find a single thing I did to berate you, or to make you feel less than royalty in our household. You were waited on hand and foot, for everything you ever wanted. I made it my life's goal to keep you happy. Even if I wasn't. And there is a very good reason for that. You know why?"

"I suppose not, but I feel I am about to be enlightened" she said with a mocking, defying tone.

"Because I loved you, at least the version of you that I met, and remnants of that permeated my whole life with you. And I hoped for her return. And because I vowed to do so. And because your father asked me to do that. He never threatened me with a gruesome murder if I hurt you, like most fathers. He just told me: 'Alice and Arianne are all I have. Arianne has married an asshole. I probably screwed up as a parent somewhere. If you don't prove to be another asshole, then I will know that I have done at least something right', he told me. He died just a few months later, and I decided to make him smile up in heaven. What a great man he was. A truly great man. Unlike me, the absolute zero. At least, I met a real man in my life, even if he was your father."

Alice was somber.

"So, after all this, dearest loving wife of mine, I am still waiting for you to tell me, what makes you unhappy."

Clearly pissed, deflated, angered, frustrated, everything into one, she hesitated a bit.

"Well, since you are Mr Perfect, and since I am so unjustified in feeling anything that the almighty saint YOU don't endorse, I think I will stop this farce of a conversation now. You make me look like a phony, evil, vain, scheming, backstabbing spoilt brat, and this is not by any means acceptable, especially for a conversation between adults. I will not let myself be humiliated like that."

"What you are and what you are not have nothing to do with this conversation, Alice."

"What does this mean, now?" she shouted.

"It means exactly what it says. What you are is not a part of this conversation, so far at least. Only what you feel. You feel unhappy. This in itself doesn't make you anything. After all, you are entitled to feel anything you want. What makes you something is what you do about what you feel. And this, my loving wife, remains to be seen. So, once again, for the fucking FINAL time, what the fuck makes you unhappy? Tell me, God fucking damn it!" I shouted back at her.

"You! You make me unhappy! You and your saintly attitude, your self-righteousness, your... your everything! You! You make me unhappy!" she shouted.

More deafening silence.

"All these years, I have had no purpose in life. It was always about you. Your career, your friends, you, you, you. As if I have no other reason to exist other than to be a part of Mr Bob's fucking universe! I am sick of it all!"

"What the fuck are you talking about, Alice? You were free to do any fucking thing you ever wanted! I never told you to do anything! You never accompanied me to any professional gatherings, something which, so that you know, every single significant other from the company did! You were the only one who didn't! They all bored you to death, as you said. And I accepted it. I always found something to cover for your absence. However, in YOUR professional gatherings, and your fucking charities, and whatever else, if you wanted me along, I was there! It was the other way around, Alice! I was a mere decoration in YOUR universe, not you in mine!" I said, as calmly as I could. Thank every deity out there for my preparation.

"Fuck you Bob! You self-righteous asshole!" she shouted at me.

"Yes, Alice. You are right. Fuck me, the self-centered bastard who never catered for the needs of his wife. How right you are. Fuck the stupid ass motherfucking idiot, me. Yes Alice, FUCK stupid ole' me." I threw back at her.

Well, she clearly expected to have the upper hand in this, but so far she hadn't made it.

"Look Bob, this is leading nowhere. You are too self-absorbed to even try to see my point of you. This whole thing is pointless" she said.

"Actually, it is the other way around. I have repeatedly, again and again, asked you to enlighten me on what makes you unhappy. You tell me some very feeble excuses, I debunk them, and then you accuse me of being self-absorbed and the source of your unhappiness. The truth of the matter is that logic doesn't agree with what you say, nor does our past history. And just throwing feelings around, which do not by definition have to obey any kind of logic or history, as if I don't have feelings of my own, as if you have the exclusive right to feelings in this house, well, this truly insults my intelligence" I answered her.

"In any case" I continued, "you have the fundamental right to feel whatever you want, even if it is all logically and historically unjustified and, basically, all in your head. Still, it is your right to feel whatever you may feel. So, I make you unhappy, for being self-centered and all that bullshit. Total fucking bullshit, and insulting to my completely selfless and utter devotion to you, but still, if that is the way you feel, that is the way you feel. Reason will probably accomplish nothing in your case, it never has the past twenty years, no reason to suspect it will do so now. So, given the fact that you feel unhappy, what do you want to do about it?"

Silence. Again looking down. Here it comes...

"I.. I think we should get some distance between us for a while" she said, to an almost hushed tone of voice.

"Distance? What do you mean?"

"I mean... we... maybe we should... take a small break. Maybe not live together for a little while. Put a little distance between us. Just to see where this whole thing is going. I... I need to sort out my feelings."

"So you want us to separate?"

"F... for a short while... y...yes, that's what I was thinking."

"WAS thinking?"

"A... am. Am thinking."

"Hm... Right... You want a separation? As in divorce?"

"No! I didn't say divorce! I just need a bit of space and... and some time to... to find myself. I... I feel... lost... and confused. I need to... to sort myself out."

"Oh. Right."

I pretended to think a bit about it, and continued.

"Ok then, if that is what you want, fine."

She didn't expect this. Her eyes opened wide. I resumed.

"If you want separation, we separate. You are free to leave anytime."

Her look was truly for the papers. Total surprise.

"Before you leave, though" I continued, "we will need to sign a legal separation agreement. After all..."

"What are you talking about?" she interrupted, completely taken aback. "Me, leaving? My house?"

"Actually, you leaving MY house, Alice. It was bought with MY money, it is in MY name, and before we officially head for divorce, it still is mine. So yes, YOU leaving MY house, after YOU have signed with ME a legal separation agreement. In which WE BOTH state the precise terms of the separation. WHICH if ANY of us violates, WE head straight for divorce, with cause depending on the exact type of violation."

"I... I don't know what to say..." she said, truly surprised.

"What the fuck, Alice? You think that I will be your eternal saving patron? Your saint, your guardian Angel, your sucker for life? Separation means we don't live together. Not living together plus the fact that this house is mine and I refuse to tolerate your caprices and whims any more, means that you pack your shit and leave this house. Leaving this house means you take your life in your own hands, lest the provisions of the mutually agreed separation contract, if there is going to be one. If you agree to such a contract and terms, we will keep in a pre-prescribed amount of minimal touch for as long as we have agreed upon, as long of course as we both adhere to the terms mutually agreed upon. If one of us strays, it is straight to the courthouse. No further contact. Just the sharks. If we both behave, then we see where we are as soon as the separation comes to its lawful end."

Silence.

"You hate me that much?" she muttered, almost ready to cry.

"Drop this idiotic charade, Alice. It doesn't work. This is what you asked for. You want out, I am giving you out. However, I am not leaving my house, so if you want out, out you go. So, what will it be? Are you staying or leaving? And if you leave, is it separation or divorce?"

Silence.

"I... I need to think about it. I... I have a lot to think about" she said, seemingly somewhat lost.

"Actually, Alice dearest, you don't" I said, pretty decisively.

"W... what do you mean?" she asked.

"You don't have much to think about. It is simple: in or out? And if out, separation or divorce?"

"You think that this is actually a choice? I cannot believe you!" she said.

"Actually, it is very much a choice. I understand it was going to go differently, in your own mind. I would be the sucker once again, and just leave when you told me to. So that you 'find yourself' in the comfort of 'your' own home, doing God knows what with God knows who, while I spend my days and nights sulking in a motel or worse, waiting for you to decide if you have 'found yourself' and want me back, after I kiss a certain part of your anatomy of course, or to tell me to take a hike otherwise. A slave to your whim. Isn't it about what you had in your head, Alice dearest?" I asked, with a good dose of venom in my voice.

"You accuse me of cheating now?! How dare you!" shouted a completely surprised Alice.

"Oh, cut it out, Alice! Stop the theatrics! Yes, if you 'wanna find yourself' and all that horseshit, you probably just want to fuck around, taste some strange, as some of your whoring slutty girlfriends have done multiple times, while their idiot sucker husbands wait on them hand and foot! Chances are that you wanted to do it all, see what you've been missing all these years, and in the comfort of MY house to boot! Courtesy of the sucker of the century, good ole' me! And when you are done fucking around, either settle back with a remorseful-for-all-the-trouble-I-have-caused-your-divinity me, or with another piece of meat out there. Well, I got news for you. Ain't gonna happen! No sir! I am staying right here. You wanna leave, leave. I don't own you. However, I am entitled to know, are we on a separation track or heading for divorce? This much I have a right to know."

Yes, the preparation worked. She was truly troubled by all this. It did not go as planned by her. For damn sure it didn't.

"I... I need to think about all this. Can you give me some time?" she asked.

"You threw this ton of shit in my face, and now YOU want time?" I said and started laughing. She seemed shell shocked.

"Tomorrow, lunchtime" I declared. "This is all the time you have. Make sure you have thought things through, 'cause past that, I make the decisions for both of us."

She just stood there watching me with eyes wide-open, mouth agape. I got up and left for the bedroom. I took her personal stuff with her pillow, sheets and all, put it on the little table outside the room, went inside again and locked the door.

I heard her footsteps. She hesitated outside the door for a bit, but she did have the presence of mind not to stir any shit. She just took her things and went to the guestroom. I was sure she would be talking on the phone for a long time that night.

Me, on the other hand, no. The only thing I did before falling asleep was to send one SMS. "We're on" it said. As soon as I read the reply, "K" I deleted it, turned my phone off and dozed off.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Sleep that night was a pretty down and out affair. I was so emotionally drained by the whole confrontation with Alice that the minute I laid down to sleep, I lost it. I just woke up the next morning, to a very quiet house. Eerily quiet.

I got up, did the usual 'shit, shower and shave' routine, and left the bedroom. She was nowhere is sight, but there was a TV sound coming from the guestroom, which meant that she would just be hanging there at least for a while. For my part, I just did what I normally did on a Saturday morning: go to the basement to work out, then go to my room to read a book, read the latest news, and wait until a bit before midday. As I heard no sound coming from the kitchen, I understood she had no intention of cooking (we split duties on that one, my cooking being decidedly better than hers by the way), so I understood that I was to be the cook of the day. I went to the kitchen, and prepared what would probably be a very unique lunch, no thanks to the food of course. The food itself was fine, lentil soup, one of my favorites, and I can tell you I know how to make delicious lentil soups. I learned from the master, my mom, who was a true genius in the kitchen. But the uniqueness of the meal was due to circumstance, not my cooking.

At 12:55 sharp I summoned her to lunch, as I usually do when I am the designated cook, and prepared the table. She reluctantly made her appearance a bit later, greeted me, thanked me for cooking, and proceeded to sit down and start eating, along with me. I can say that my lentil soup was great, and it was. It had everything it should have to be great: garlic, onions, tomatoes, olive oil, a bit of oregano, two kinds of pepper, ginger, an assortment of spices, salt, you name it. A perfect lentil soup. But I didn't hear anything from her. Not one word of praise. She just ate, with a pretty sullen face. How ungrateful.

After we ate in silence, I cleared the table. She just sat there, passive, a face of defeat, resignation even. How different from the day before, with the face of resolution, when she made me sit at the table before I even had a chance to put myself together after I entered the house.

After I was done, I sat down facing her, and I just stared. She was as awkward as could be, I could see that. Finally, she spoke.

"..Uhm...Bob..."

"Yes?"

"..I... I have... thought... about... the... things... uhm... we... talked yesterday... you know..."

"Of course I know."

"..Well... I have...uhm... made a...uhm... decision..."

"Ok..." I said, in an expecting manner. Like a half question.

"..I... Uhm..."

"Yes, Alice?"

"..I... uhm... think... that... I...uhm..."

"Come on, Alice, it can't be that hard! Just say it!" I said, half-laughing.

"..I... will... give... this...uhm, our... marriage...uhm, another... shot... I... think..." she said, stuttering, and always looking anywhere but me.

"So let me get this right" I said. "You will give our marriage another shot? Is that what you are saying?"

"..Uhm...y-yes...that is... what... I am... saying..."

"Hmmm. Right." I said. I showed no emotion at all. Just kept silent. She was getting more antsy by the second.

"..W...well?" she half-asked.

"Well, what?"

"..well... what... do you think?..." she asked.

"You are asking me what I think? About you wanting to give our marriage another shot, you mean?"

"..y-yes." she answered.

"Well, I have many lingering questions. For example, does that mean that all the talk about separation is off?"

"..y-yes, o-of course."

"So, you decided to not separate with me, and continue with our lives?"

"Yes...that is... uhm... what I said."

"Right" I said. I then stared her right in the eye, and, very calmly, delivered the equivalent of a full-blast hyper-nova explosion in a simple question, one that I knew would seal our fate.

"Does George know of your decision?"

The silence that befell the room had the impact of a thousand Hydrogen bombs. She opened her eyes as wide as I have ever seen her, all color drained from her face. She was just staring at me, unable to speak. Hesitantly, she collected herself enough to be able to function on a basic level.