Shall I see myself out? by Lucy Deedes
Dear Charlie,
Our talk last week was full of tears and drama and the slamming of doors. Now we’ve had some thinking time.
I am truly sorry that our marriage is over and I believe that you are too. You are very, very angry and for once I can say you have good reason. I say ‘for once’ because I do think – sorry, but I must say this – that one of the problems during our years together was your ready anger.
Of course it was all roses at the beginning. You had my full attention at home and theirs at work. But when I started to write again and got a book deal, it all changed. Of course, you made a good job of pretending to be pleased, but you were put out by how busy I became and perhaps a little jealous that I had a life of my own.
If you felt neglected; if your shirt cuffs weren’t perfect or there was one too many take-aways for supper too many times, then I apologise. As far as I was concerned, we both had our careers and there were no children so wouldn’t that make us equal?
To me, and to many women, an angry man is frightening. My parents and siblings were all even-tempered and laid back, as you know: most things could be turned into a joke and nobody ever threw a tantrum. Perhaps it spoiled me. PG Wodehouse said that scowling is the middle-class man’s version of wife-beating. I’m with him.
I have always hated conflict and bad temper. Everything we discussed – even if it were what colour to paint the kitchen – if we didn’t agree, you took personally. Into the car, screech of tyres and off you went on a three-day sulk. You fell out with people on such a regular basis that life became very lonely. You often refused to come out with me at the last moment, but if you did (that desperate refuge of the warring couple) you jokily criticised me in front of what friends we had left. Joking, but with an edge.
What you especially took to heart when it all came out last week was my confession that I no longer even liked you. It’s a horrible thing to hear but it had to be said because you could not understand why I wanted to leave. We know plenty of couples who have successful platonic marriages because they are great friends. I’m sorry, but we were past that.
And yes, we had had a sexless marriage for some time but why would anyone want to sleep with an angry, aggrieved man? I would have felt like a prostitute!
I do realise that breaking my ankle and then falling in love with a kind, gentle doctor and a complete stranger, is the biggest cliché in the world. But these things don’t usually happen out of the blue.
All the best, Charlie,
x
This felt completely real and the picture of the angry, entitled man at the centre of it was very well realised. I think the last couple of sentences was, personally a little light and out of balance with the depths of the man’s anger and jealousy. I’d have written from the Caribbean having cleared out the bank account, personally.
From Simon: This is once again a demonstration of the importance of titles. The piece has a great title – a clichéd common expression perhaps, but one that immediately intrigues. We want to go on reading. I also liked the fact that this is a letter that I could fully believe one partner might send to another, particularly after ‘some thinking time’. The writer not only wants to tell her ex-partner what she’s thinking, she also needs to organise those thoughts for her own clarity. I believed in the slow distancing of a couple over their attitudes to conflict. Some people thrive on argument, others feel that, given how often you meet disagreement in the world outside, it’s the last thing you want at home. There is a deep sadness in the line: ‘You fell out with people on such a regular basis that life became very lonely.’ The husband’s growing jealousy of his wife’s literary success is also entirely credible. The foreground of this anatomy of a marriage is unadorned, but there a powerful emotional hinterland. I liked the inherent truth in the letter-writer’s realisation that the relationship had run out of steam. The ‘falling in love with a kind, gentle doctor’ did not precipitate the break-up, the rift had come long before. The one thing that puzzled me was: Is there a reason why both participants are called ‘Charlie’? Maybe I’m missing something.