My relationship with Mark?
We are calm. We are smooth. He knows me. I know him.
I have no secrets from him except the things I do not speak.
And I mean nothing more by that than this . . . my mind races and churns and connects and puzzles and analyzes and obsesses. All the fucking time.
I do not share my every thought with Mark. He does not wish to hear my every thought.
So I have secrets of the interior sort.
Some of those secrets I share here in my writing, and sometimes Mark is surprised.
But mostly? We are calm and smooth.
I want it that way. I like it that way. I need it to be that way.
I chose Mark in part because I knew it would be this way.
Our relationship together has healed me.
I grew up with that other kind of love.
That insane raging love.
NO.
But . . .
Words sung by the girls endlessly as they walk about the house . . . a song they have been singing recently and which I recognize.
A woman’s voice, mournful and lovely, singing . . .
Just going to stand there and watch me burn
That’s alright, because I like the way it hurts
Just going to stand there and hear me cry
Well, that’s alright, because I love the way you lie
I love the way you lie.
What the fuck?
So beautiful, but what the fuck?
So I head on over to Youtube to look up the video. It’s Eminem and Rihanna, singing Love the Way You Lie.
And people? I am transfixed.
It’s a gorgeous song, a gorgeous video, and the story it tells?
Just stops my heart.
A story of all-consuming passion, of love dipped in violence, of eroticism drenched in gaseous rage. Of anger and heartbreak and insanity and apologies and relenting and the intensity of a desperate sexual urge to heal the broken bits within you by ripping what you need from the soul of this other person.
Eminem’s voice, by turns hostile and then full of soft entreatry, explains how everything is going to work out. How it’s going to be different next time. Just get the fuck back here.
Oh my god.
And then the calm exquisite serenity that can only exist between moments of chaos.
And then chaos again.
Because once there is chaos, there is always chaos again.
And Rihanna’s voice, hauntingly resigned and adoring, obsessed . . .
Just going to stand there and watch me burn
That’s alright, because I like the way it hurts
Just going to stand there and hear me cry
Well, that’s alright, because I love the way you lie
I love the way you lie.
The actors in this video? They are perfection.
I want to be them.
I want to stand in that fire. I want to stand in that fire so badly I can taste the smoke in my mouth. I want to be forced against that wall. I want to be uncertain of whether this dangerous moment will end with explosive violence or passion.
That’s not good.
And I am familiar with the concept of fantasy, people.
I know about the joys of imagination.
As I know that this video wasn’t made to impact only me. Around the world it plays and snakes itself into the consciousness of the masses. With its message that overwhelming danger and hate and hostility can become, in an instant . . . love and desire and passion.
And that the signs of true love?
Are scorched into your skin.
A sexy message.
I know how to take fantasy and wrap it up in my calm peaceful life.
I so do.
But what to do with the re-awakened knowledge that my calm peaceful life is wrapped around a darker truth? What to make of the connection I feel to the message of this song? What to do with the small part of my heart that is urging a reality made of this fantasy?
Fuck.
My relationship with Mark?
We are calm. We are smooth. He knows me. I know him.
I have no secrets from him, except I sometimes do.
Some of those secrets I share here in my writing, and sometimes Mark is surprised.
I love my life.
I am always thrown when my past rushes up and grips me by the throat.
And even more thrown by how I sometimes welcome that choking like an old lover.
Familiar. Intense.
Fire.
Eminem’s last words before Rihanna closes out the song with those mournful lyrics that are burned into my brain?
This . . .
If she ever tries to fucking leave again, I’m going to tie her to the bed and set this house on fire.
That takes me back.
Sigh.
And no . . . the girls do not get to listen to this song in our house. But they have lives and friends and influences that are no longer me. And the girls are not me.
So there is that.
I’m sick! Very, very, very sick! I’m often thinking, “Hit me, just hit me! I can live with that, I have been dealing with that my whole life! What I don’t know how to deal with, is your silence!” Knowing my husband is thinking, “How can I fart without Ginny freaking out?”
Your words, while funny?
Are also striking close to home for me.
When you grow up learning all the wrong ways to interact with others?
You carry that into your adult life.
You just do.
And as many layers of appropriate behavior you lay over those early lessons?
They come back to haunt you.
They just do.
Love to you, babe.
They just do!
I love you, for speaking words that are true…no matter how hard!
The trick, is to try and remember, “This is my crazy talking, this is not him nor is my marriage in need of repair!” When you figure out how to do that, just e-mail me the recipe!
For me?
I just keep doing the thing that does not feel quite true to me.
And with every repetition?
It feels truer.
But the other is always there.
Love to you this evening.
And always.
Well, shit. I can’t believe I’m about to emotionally vomit this all over your comments section.
Growing up with my brother was a brutal experience and I’ll leave it at that. Add to that my Daddy issues, and how I ever managed to end up in a relationship that wasn’t abusive and totally fucked up is a complete mystery to me.
I so get the attraction of chaos because I know where I fit in there. It’s comfortable – like moving around your house in pitch black. I know where to step and not to step, how quick to move, how still to stay. This world that I actually live in? The one that seems too good to be true? I am always moving around with my hands outstretched trying to feel my way, hoping I don’t fall and take my husband and kids down with me.
Sigh.
EXACTLY!!! Although, not my brothers, my father was a fist/bat/whatever-was-handy freak! My husband is gentle, quiet, and amazing. I have no idea how to handle that, 7 years of marriage later!
Yes, Mark and I have been together for 24 years.
Memories fade.
But they still occasionally pull at me.
Did you see Brooke’s words here in these comments?
She nailed it.
She (Brooke) didn’t just nail it, she painted the whole thing and THEN nailed it to the freaking wall! Thank you both!
Thank you for your kind words, both of you.
You have made me cry.
This whole thing . . .
I so get the attraction of chaos because I know where I fit in there. It’s comfortable – like moving around your house in pitch black. I know where to step and not to step, how quick to move, how still to stay. This world that I actually live in? The one that seems too good to be true? I am always moving around with my hands outstretched trying to feel my way, hoping I don’t fall and take my husband and kids down with me.
Exactly.
Oh my god.
Yes, exactly.
I will not send you hugs because I know that’s not how you roll. But I didn’t mean to make you cry either. Just know that in your honor I’m dancing around my living room singing the baby daddy song in your honor. Trust me, it’s hilarious.
You know what, though?
These are not tears of sadness.
And so no hugs are required.
Instead tears of joy at connecting.
I will happily cry those tears.
Thank you.
I know that those in the domestic violence awareness community are very upset by this song and video. But from where I come from, it depicts how much more complicated it is. As does your post.
Yes, the violence is always wrong. But to be NEEDED like that (whether its real or not) was just so attractive. It’s not only fear that makes us stay. Or go back. Or keep the people around us years and years later. It’s that we love them. They are our boyfriends. Our fathers. Our mothers.
I don’t want that in my family or my home today. But I didn’t always know how not to have it. And I didn’t always know how not to want it.
Heavy sighs, babe.
This . . .
I don’t want that in my family or my home today. But I didn’t always know how not to have it. And I didn’t always know how not to want it.
Heavy sighs of recognition.
Love.
We do tend to repeat things, even if they’re bad, because they’re comfortable. Familiar. Sometimes we have to sacrifice the headiness for the stability. If that makes sense. Nichole said it better. As usual. Because she’s awesome. As are you.
Thanks, you.
Very much.
I don’t know where to go with this comment…I just want to keep re-reading your post.
I keep trying to type out a comment but I can’t seem to get the words out.
So I’ll just say thanks for tweeting with me this morning. I needed it.
I love you.
You are stronger than you know.
I was glad to hear that Meagan Fox donated her earnings for being in this video to Sojourn, a facility that helps battered women and their children.
I did not know that.
Thank you for that information.
I love this song. I love the emotion, I love their voices.
The message? Worries me for people who can’t grasp the fantasy of the song, seeing the hurt and thinking it’s okay.
But your post? Sums up so much of the song for me. I have some songs that just take me somewhere else, and this, this is one of them.
Yes.
For me?
This song takes me somewhere else.
Definitely.
I have no real insight.
Aside from the fact that people are seriously fucked up by making abuse alluring and sexy. That video draws me in and makes me want to watch it more than once. THAT? Pisses me the fuck off. How could something like that possibly draw me in?! The actual music is what I love about it. I have it on my iPod and have listened to it many times, but I’ve never felt any kind of emotion while singing along because I have never had to experience ANYthing that would make me connect in that way. I am so inexplicably grateful for that. So so grateful.
I’m sorry I don’t know what to say about your connection. Except I’m glad you are connecting and not experiencing at present. Very very glad.
You know what else? I think (like Niki said) “people who can’t grasp the fantasy” have a huge amount of my sympathy. It’s never okay. Ever.
Connecting and not experiencing?
One of the accomplishments in my life and my marriage of which I am most proud.
So thank you.
And I love you.
I love you right back.
A lot.
That’s just lovely.
Thanks, babe.
yeah, I have too much to say in response to this. pretty ironic actually since I have been wallowing in self-destructive emotions for DAYS…like bathing in delicious chocolate. Thoughts that are so opposite to the mom and wife and good citizen and state worker and daughter and aunt I have become. Those thoughts are me. And a lot of the time, Im not the pure “me” I remember. And sometimes the bad thoughts are the quickest way back to myself. I guess? I dont know. Im not a shrink…
love
p.s. and why DO these feelings all end up wrapped up in sex?
Sometimes the bad thoughts are the quickest way back to yourself?
I will just sit here quietly and let that thought (your words, but which could be my words) just linger in the space before my eyes.
Sigh.
And as for why sex wraps around everything?
I have endless words on this topic.
I tend to share them a little at a time.
Sigh.
If he doesn’t hurt me, do I matter? Do I even exist?
Learning to answer yes to those questions is among the hardest things I have done in my life. The worst pain for me is the pain of being insignificant.
I had to learn a whole new language. I get better at it all the time, but I’ll never be a native speaker.
Adrienne -
Another fabulous metaphor . . . of a language not learned.
I said elsewhere that I keep doing the thing that does not feel quite true to me.
And that with every repetition it feels truer.
I keep speaking the words that feel foreign.
And hope that in time, they more easily slip from my mouth.
Sigh.
I have a million in one things in my mind from this post. I love this post.
And the comment section today.
Many things in my mind, so many of them unspoken. After reading this and the comments, I’m not sure that anything I write here will be as beautiful as some of the others.
But my mind? Had thoughts such as these to this song a few days ago. I heard it. Had to watch it.
Interesting the things that trigger memories or make our minds spin.
Dark. Haunting. Chaos. Sometimes all at once.
Hello, lovely you.
Thank you.
And my readers? My commenters?
You guys are the best.
Every day, you make my day.
As for you, LeAnne . . . I am glad you are here to speak of your moment in the past tense. As I will speak of mine tomorrow as well.
Big love.
That song? Had just started to play on the radio when I came in to work & read this.
Weird how life does shit like that. All the time for me.
I have always identified with that song. Hub and I have had to come a long way down the anger management road. He has never hit me…but I have been grabbed & pushed. And I pushed right back.
I’m feisty that way. I’m not easily fucked with.
I’ve stayed and married him because I made it clear that if he continued to let his anger fly like that? If he didn’t learn to check himself? That I would be so out the door. I punctuated that with an impromptu trip to my dad’s. 10 hours away.
Since then? It has diminished. A whole lot. While we have argued? He has not gotten to that point again. As time goes by, he learns how to manage it. If he wants to be with me? He has to manage it. There is no other option.
And he has learned that I am not his enemy. I am not the drunk father figures who said they loved him & then got angry & beat the shit out of him.
I don’t play that way.
This song? I understand it. I understand the passion. Sex and anger are both very passionate. And often? The passions are pretty damn similar.
I don’t think it’s made to glamorize domestic abuse. I think it’s a song made by a man who’s been through it and understands it from the inside. It’s not a political/message song. It’s an “I know what this is” song. Eminem has a lot of introspective insight. I have a lot of respect for him, altho I don’t always agree with what he says or how he chooses to say it. His music is full of himself figuring shit out. And often dealing with it poorly, figuring that out, & trying to get past it.
Might be why Rhianna did it, too. I imagine she identified.
My husband is silent until he explodes. and I am the fiesty one…I feel like this goes back to the post Kris did about her dad too. I commented that I dont know whats worse, the dad that speaks to their kid like hers did and mine, who basically kept everything inside until an explosion…and my husband is the same way( eww, does everyone marry “their dad”). and when the anger comes out, I would beg him to hit me rather than keep coming back to THAT point of uncontrollable anger.
I think Eminem has done a service to men, showing that they arent the only ones that feel this way and expresses it in unhealthy ways. showing something is a problem is better than ignore it for chrissakes.
That’s what happens with my husband, too. He stuffs until something tiny sets him off…he is also very much like my dad. Which is truly creepy. And not consciously intentional, I assure you. :) My dad would also do the same thing. Stuff & explode. I fought with him, too.
I think I’d rather have that then having the dad that talked to me like Kris’s. I’d have a really tough time dealing with that. With my dad, I learned the warning signs of eminent explosion & could steer clear. I know what sets my Hub off, too, & have learned (usually) to diffuse some of the pressure before it reaches critical mass.
It’s been hard work getting the anger somewhat under control. He is one that was worth the work. Many? Just don’t change. I never would’ve stayed if I hadn’t seen real, tangible change. That’s why it took 5 years for us to get married. I wanted to be sure.
Mine is worth it. He is such a good person. High school sweetheart, PASSION, you know? And I have always thought would be forever…
I walked on eggshells with my dad and I refuse to do it with my husband. It got very bad recently and they added medication and he went to see someone. He stopped drinking for me (but went to therapy for himself), unlike my dad who is slowly killing himself.
I didnt KNOW at the time he was “the same” as my dad. my dad has a huge personality and my husband is so shy, its painful. they are only the same in SOME ways…
I dated mine from 17 to 21, then got engaged, and got married when I was 25.
yea, my dad would yell, but he would NEVER refer to anything sexual connecting to me ( like in Kris’s post). he just CANT go there ( we can only theorize as to why). everything is a secret.
so bringing it back to Eminen…any encouragement of dialogue is so so necessary. Still in our culture, a lot of men dont TALK about how they feel…
I do not have words to wrap this all up nicely.
Relationships are sometimes difficult.
We all make choices.
And many choices are hard.
I love you.
And I see your strength.
The two of you do not need me here, as I can see that you have made a connection.
I would just like to say that the video? And Eminem’s work generally?
Is hard for me to appreciate because I project so much of myself and my past into it.
And so many emotions are roiled up that it feels too intimate to hear him sing these words.
Sigh.
There is more to the song than the sexy images, more to it than just my reaction.
Anyway.
I also need to say that NO . . . not everyone marries a man made in the image of her father.
I can count on one hand the times Mark has been truly angry with me in our relationship.
Twenty four years, and I count those instances on one hand.
They are memorable for their rarity. And for their gentleness.
Because even angry?
Mark is gentle.
As I have had to learn how to be.
The times I have gotten angry? While rarer as the years pass?
Would require more digits to enumerate.
And they were not gentle times.
Sigh.
I am right this very moment trying so hard to leave behind the song & learn how to be happy & normal from someone who gives me passion without the danger & sadness & fear. It is ridiculously hard for me to do. This post & the comments are a good reminder to not go back. I may not watch that video. That is all I’m going to say except – I really do love you.
That the right choices are ridiculously hard for you to make?
You have no need to see this video.
It shouldn’t be ridiculously hard. It shouldn’t.
But it is. I know.
I know.
My heart aches for you.
I so get this song, and I get what you are saying. There was a boy once (I actually posted about him and ending our relationship 2 or 3 weeks ago), who, while there was no violence, there was the emotional pain and mental games. Over and over again. Because I let it happen. Because I loved him. Because, because, because.
After that relationship ended, I didn’t know what a normal, loving relationship was like. My husband taught that to me, much like Mark taught you. And sometimes, though it is safe and wonderful and lovely, deep in the back of my mind, I miss that “spark” of the old relationship. It’s sick.
That desire for the “spark” of which you speak?
It is sick.
And also?
Real.
Sigh.
This post?
Makes me want to share things. Oh, so many things.
But I don’t share such things on the Internet.
‘Cause I’m not as brave as you.
You don’t need to share your stuff.
That I have reached you? Impacted you in some way?
That is more than enough.
And I am not that brave.
I just sit down every day and write.
Not that brave.