Miranda's Letter

MIRANDA’S LETTER

Miranda saw the letter the moment she walked in the door. It sat there almost taunting her. She took a deep breath and decided she wouldn’t open it right away. She’d go about her business and look at it later. She put her things away and began to clean the kitchen. With each swipe her eyes drifted to the letter. She had no way of knowing if it was good or bad but her gut told her it was the latter. She didn’t want to read it as much as she did. She thought of calling a friend to get her mind off things but she told herself that she was strong and could handle this on her own. Perhaps she’d rearrange the living room, change things up and give it a new look. She’d read some things about Feng Shui and how it could help fix bad things in your life so rearranging might not be such a bad idea. She eyed the sofa – it looked like it could be stopping the flow of energy.

“Hmm, maybe that’s been it all along. If I’d moved the sofa years ago maybe things would be fine,” she thought.

She laughed and sat down. Memories filled her head, memories of her and Sam during the good times, during the times when smiles and happiness were prominent over tears and anger. Of late, those times had been few and far between. Separating hadn’t helped the situation. Now, they still fought and she still cried herself to sleep. They’d accomplished nothing in four months of separation. They hadn’t fixed any of their problems and in fact, had only created more. Sam had always been somewhat possessive but he’d turned controlling over the last year. She didn’t know what to do. She’d never been the straying wife; yet, he acted like she was some adulteress who couldn’t be trusted or a child who couldn’t take care of herself. It was as though he refused to see her as a grown woman who had her own thoughts, beliefs and ideas. She didn’t need him to take care of her or tell her what to do and how to do it. She simply needed an equal, a man to stand beside her and support her. She wanted a relationship in which both parties contributed and neither stood in front of the other. Sam seemed to want to play the role of dominant male and preside over his wife and manor. Miranda couldn’t live that way. She had her career, her own life and her friends. Sam was the most important factor in her world but there was more to her than him.

She sighed and looked over at the letter. She was nervous to read it. It was unnerving that he’d come in and left it the night before they were to talk. She already knew their future was shaky but she really thought they could work it out. His leaving the letter caused her to doubt that and she hadn’t even opened it.

“Miranda, grow some balls and read the damn thing!” she told herself.

She reached over and pulled the letter to her. She ran her fingers over the front, looking at his handwriting. She’d always loved the way her wrote her name. She used to make him write it for her on little scraps of paper so that she could hide them away odd places. She said it was like a little surprise to open something and have one of the notes there. She knew it was silly but it made her smile and at the time, they were so in love and he’d wanted to make her smile always. Now, her smile, or lack thereof, didn’t seem to matter.

She turned the envelope over. It wasn’t sealed, as he hadn’t mailed it. He’d simply folded the flap in. She ran her finger underneath and pulled the letter out. It wasn’t that long, but that could be good or bad. She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath then began to read.

Dear Miranda,

I know we are to talk tomorrow night but there were things I had to get out. I’m giving you a card that you gave me four years ago. You loved me so much then. Your world revolved around me. I want that Miranda back. I want the girl who wanted nothing but me. Now, you seem more worried about everything else. You’re going out with friends and you’re drinking. You’ve gotten interests that have nothing to do with me. I want the girl you used to be. I’m sick of this situation I’m sick of living with my parents while you try and figure out what you want. You go out night after night with your friend (the ones you know I don’t approve of) and you drink and you stay out late. How is that supposed to make me feel? We’ve been separated four months. That’s plenty of time for you to know that you want me to move back in. I think you’re having too much fun living your little “single” life. I don’t think you want me to move back in. I think you like things the way they are. I think you like having me waiting to see what you’re going to do while you go out and have your fun and your wine. You drank an entire bottle of wine in four days. Have you turned into an alcoholic? Is that what this is all about? Did you want me to move out so you could drink and party it up?

You need to decide what’s more important to you – me or your wine and friends. I’m not waiting on you any longer. I don’t like living with my parents, having them pity me. It makes me feel like a failure. They ask if things are better and they aren’t. You have to stop what you’re doing. You have to give up your wine and your friends. You know how I feel about that. I don’t like drinking and I don’t like the friends you keep and you should give them up for me. If you can’t do that then there’s no hope for us! If you can’t do what I want then we should just go ahead with the divorce.

I’m not waiting anymore. Read this letter and decide what you want. It’s me or your wine and friends! You can tell me tomorrow night what you’ve decided.

Sam

Miranda was stunned. She read the letter again and the second time only angered her more. How dare he! How dare he tell her she had to decide in a day! None of their problems were solved and his letter said nothing to her but do what I want and we’ll be ok. He kept playing the “wine and friends” card. She was furious. She grabbed the phone to call her friend April. April had been through her share of hard times and she’d know what to do about the letter.

“Hey!” April answered.

“April, you are not going to believe what I am about to tell you.”

“Oh, god! What?”

“I got home tonight and Sam had left me a letter.”

“Uh-oh”

“Yeah! What’s worse is that we were supposed to go out tomorrow night and discuss things.”

“Ok, discuss what things?”

“He wants to move back in.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“Well, I want him to move back in but it can’t happen until things are fixed.”

“I agree with that. Him moving back now would be pointless and would only make things worse.”

“I know.”

“Miranda, honey I love you. You know that and because of that I’m going to tell you what I really think here. You and Sam have so much to work out. And you really haven’t accomplished much in that respect in the four months he’s been gone.”

“I know.”

“Read me the letter.”

“I think it’s going to make you mad.”

“Hmm – great. Read it anyway.”

Miranda read the letter. The third time reading it wasn’t any better than the first two. It still infuriated her and made her doubt their future.

“Ok – done.”

“Miranda!”

“Yes?”

“Miranda!!!!” April’s voice was full of disbelief.

“Yes?” Miranda knew what April was thinking.

“I swear, if I see him, I’m going to kick him – hard! What was all that about wine and friends? You rarely drink and when you do it’s a miniscule amount! And woo hoo, you drank a bottle of wine in four days? Big deal! That’s like a glass per day! God, what is his deal? I’ve only seen you drink once or twice and you’re one of my best friends! He acts like you’re a sot with a running tab at the liquor store.”

“I know! I told him that you only get three or four glasses from a bottle of wine and that was like a glass with dinner. He blew it so far out of proportion. It would have been different if I drank the bottle in four hours but four days! Come on! And really, one glass of wine isn’t going to make you drunk, it will only relax you a bit. If I’m not out driving or anything why should it matter if I have a glass of wine from time to time? He also got mad because I hung out with some friends who’d been drinking. They called and asked me to pick them up. I didn’t do anything but he was mad because he said I shouldn’t be hanging out with people like that.”

“Miranda, please tell me you see how controlling he’s being.”

“I see it and I don’t understand it.”

“Do you think he’s doing it out of spite or because before you’re life was all about him and you were miserable and now you’re venturing out a bit and he can’t deal with it?”

“It could be some of both. For our married life I’ve either been with him or in college and when I was in school my life was still only about him and my classes. I didn’t really do anything else. Then things started getting so bad between us and we started fighting all the time. We’d fight about money, we’d fight about my car, we’d fight about stupid petty things but we were always fighting. I couldn’t take it anymore. Then he decided he wasn’t going to drink anymore and that neither was I. Well, I sort of thought that was my decision to make and not his.”

“It is, granted, you are his wife and you should take his thoughts and feelings into consideration but I see that you’re doing nothing wrong with having an occasional glass of wine or a beer or hell, even a shot. You’re responsible.”

“I am! I’d never drive after I’ve been drinking. Even if I’ve had just a little, if I didn’t ride with someone I’ll call someone or a cab to get me.”

“I don’t know what he’s thinking. Does he really think this is the way to get you to let him come back? By brow beating you into bending to his will?”

“Well, I sure hope not.”

“Well, me too. That’s absurd and the Miranda I know would not stand for it. I swear I’m gonna kick him!”

“I kinda feel like kicking him myself. What am I supposed to do with this letter?”

“My first thought would be to burn it then change all the locks and tell him to fuck off but that really won’t accomplish anything.”

“Yeah”

“Do you want to know what that letter said to me?”

“Yes.”

“Ok, to me it said you are going to do things my way or else. It was condescending and controlling. It reminded me of things my ex would say and things my father would say to my mother. It sickens me. He doesn’t seem to be on your side at all and instead is just blaming you completely. It’s like you’re the bad little girl and he’s disciplining you! That isn’t what a marriage is supposed to be like! You need someone who’s going to be with you not against you!” April’s voice had risen a bit. She was quite upset that Sam was being so horrid to her friend.

“I know, April. I know.”

“What are you going to do?”

“That I don’t know. Right now I’m so frustrated that I don’t have any idea where to start. I want someone who’s willing to wait for me and work things out!”

“Yes! Someone to fight for you! Dammit Miranda! You deserve nothing less. If he’s not willing to fight then as far as I’m concerned, you don’t need him. And I know that’s hard because I know you don’t want to walk away but do you really want to spend the rest of your life with someone who gave you an ultimatum instead a much needed hug? It’s like he’s threatening you with walking away if you don’t take him back. That’s pathetic.”

Miranda didn’t want to spend her life that way but she also didn’t want to walk away from Sam. They’d gotten married very young, probably too young but at the time it seemed the best idea. Sam had been in the military and they had been planning to transfer him. They wanted to be together but thought a long distance relationship would be too hard and complicated, so he’d asked her to marry him. Her parents tried to talk her out of it. She’d only been nineteen and by the time they were married they’d only been together a year. It was a trying time but they’d done what they thought was best. The first two years had been very hard. They were still growing and finding themselves plus they were trying to grow and find themselves as a married couple. The years had molded them from curious teenagers into analytical adults and now they were at an impasse.

“Do I wait until tomorrow night to do anything?”

“My suggestion would be a big hell no. What have you two done to fix this? So far all I know is that you get together to talk but just end up fighting and nothing gets resolved.”

“That’s pretty much what happens.”

“Ok then – there you go. Instead of just sitting down and hoping it goes well, why don’t you both write down what you think is wrong with and needs to be changed and/or fixed about the relationship. You make your list and let him make his then read each other’s list. Then instead of getting angry about what the other said just discuss.”

“That’s sort of how tomorrow night was supposed to go.”

“See, that’s silly to me. You’re making a date to discuss things instead of just discussing them. You two are complicating this.”

“Probably so.”

“Honey, I know it’s hard, but it’s time to let go. It’s time to walk away and find you. Do you even know who you are anymore?”

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t you want to?”

“I’m scared. What if I don’t like myself?”

“But what if you do?”

April heard nothing but on the other end of the phone line Miranda smiled softly with tear filled eyes.

“Yeah,” she whispered, “What if I do?”