I'm Only Me...I'm Sorry

She was leaving today to visit his family and he could not yet come.1

She did not want to fight today. She woke up early but stayed in bed an extra hour thinking and telling herself she would not fight today. He turned over to reach out for her. She stroked his hair for but a moment and turned away. Lately, his touch all but repulsed her. He was like a child though, and in his innocent moments could not be neglected. Before she would go through all of his ranting and raving and stay quiet just to feel his sincere love for her at the end. Lately, that touch had melted away. She doubted that two weeks or even two years would let it return.2

He didn’t want to fight either- never really did, but her attitude would disturb him to the core. Both of them thought the exact same thing of the other; they were both stubborn and unable to change. Perhaps they were both correct.3

He helped her pack. They avoided any outbursts by quickly swaying any conflicts that may have led to more violent upheavals. After asking Johan what she should wear, she put on a pair of white slacks. After getting no definite response, she decided on Western style. She knew her leopard-print panties were showing through, but she was still doing the wash and was just trying them on. A vehement complaint emerged.4

This was not uncommon. Many times while getting ready for work or school he would watch over her and before even zipping her pants, he would tell her that she wasn’t covered enough or was inappropriately dressed. This time he went too far.5

He said, “I’m scared of you going over there by yourself.” She blew her top. He slapped her.6

A few days later after arriving in Pakistan, she could understand what he meant, but still could not comprehend his insensitivity. She, or course, understood that Pakistani families had their own family political system almost as complex as Parliament.7

Jane was at the mall eating ice cream with Johan’s brother Syed and sister, Rosala. The mall was apparently the place to go for dates and socializing. There was a polite Muslim girl listening intently to some boy who never stopped talking. She did not say one word and when he left was physically exhausted. Rosala threw an evil eye at her. Jane asked about the couples and Syed informed her that ‘everything that goes on in the United States also goes on here’. Jane thought that he probably had a girlfriend too, but knew better to ask.8

Her mind went back again to a few days ago when she left Johan. Many times when they fought, she would hold back on her real sentiments, but she would always feel the blow to her face even when it didn’t come.9

When he hit her, her body and mind shut down. She went to a dark hollow place where only the sound of her own sobs could be heard. She could not physically respond to him even if she tried. And it was at that precise moment when he would be prodding her to speak up and apologize.10

She would sit in a ball on the floor and he would poke her and say something incomprehensible. She would want to be left alone, goddammit!11

“Go away!” she would scream.12

“Get up! Get up now!” he would yell until he would grab her and pull her up.13

She wanted to disappear.14

“Go wash your face. You are getting your clothes dirty.”15

She found the situation too surreal. “Shut up” she mumbled.16

He hit her head hard from behind. Jane always thought if a man hit her, he would apologize and beg forgiveness. Johan did that the first two times, but almost never since then; but she would never forgive him anyway.17

She stood in the bathroom and cried. 18