There was last year's best songs music award live telecast last night. We watched. I knew I tried getting tickets to attend at the venue. But we did not manage to get any this year. I did not need any the year before.
I could still remember clearly the last that we attended. Our second child had just been discharged from the hospital after staying there for one week. Caught between motherhood feeling guilty leaving the sick behind and doing the right thing for me, I took on the latter and got myself ready for the show. Neither of us spoke as we both got ready. He did not care to look at me. And I just went along to what I think was fine enough for him.
The strain on the marriage begun to show. He was only present on the first night at the hospital and left the following night for the work, hours away from home. He did not try to come home to visit his son, neither did he try to answer my calls when the child needed him most. When I needed him too. He only came back when we were all safely at home, in time for the show.
So I queued for entry as he went to park the car. His brother and his wife came waddling behind me, joining the show, and joined me in line. And then I found him further behind. Much further behind, out of line, by the borders of the sidewalk with a phone on his cheek smiling and laughing as he spoke. Something that I had not seen him do for me of late, at the time. I did not have anything to say to him. I was hurt and disappointed. Beyond words. When he joined us, he was vacant. My presence bothered him. It was not me who was spacing out. And so I told myself that I was going to let me go and enjoy this show.
I envied the relationship that his brothers had with their wives. They were so free. One could shout all her might openly and not get schooled by anyone in the family, as he. One would snuggle and tease hers as he did with she where everyone else would join in the laughter. One was so quick to do things that you could see her husband just there to pick up what she missed out. They all did not have emotional barrier with their spouses. Something what he and I did not have.
At that point of the live show telecast where we were a couple of years ago, we stood there like mannequins. This was not the man I knew by heart. Not the one who would stare at me as I lay sleeping. Not the one who would make me laugh and laugh with me. Not the one who would try to meddle with what I was doing just to make it perfect while being a nuisance. I knew he has lost appreciation for me.
I got up and danced as the show went on. But I was partially paralyzed. It was as if my actions were embarrassing him. I did not care. I knew I needed this. And this went on until the show ended at midnight. It felt like being on top of the Burj and waiting to fall knowing the gap of fall it would take to the ground. The hollowness was hurtful. It felt like the enjoyment had gone to waste.
My laid my head against his shoulder as we watched the show last night. He tried to recollect when was the last we went for the music award. I said, "Two years ago. But let us not talk about it. It was hurtful. You face showed disgust at the sight of me." He managed a gaggle acknowledging it before falling silent. Like a black comedy that is worth a gaggle, I snorted too. But his body remained relax, as did I. And we continued watching the show together until it ended.
Last night I fell from the Burj to let go of a memory, knowing that he would embrace me somewhere in between. And I would be ready there prepared with a parachute myself too.
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