dear z
baby misses you horribly. he used to kick up a storm when you would return from work and talk to him. he hasn’t kicked like that in a while. aba was talking loudly in the apt in dxb and he started kicking again hopefully, but then stopped after he realized it wasn’t you. i miss you too.
i don’t remember what you look like anymore. i only have that sense of feel – how it feels to curl up next to you, being held and knowing everything will be ok. of being kissed, that wonderful feeling of… completeness… that comes with it. the occasional hug or absent minded kiss when we passed by in the hall or from living room to bedroom.
but along with this missing, and lonliness, and aching empty nights without you snoring reassuringly next to me, is also the memory of a vague sense of disquiet. memories, shadows. of fights. of anger. of the hopeless despair that it is to be financially in the red, desperate, unable to afford anything, no food, water, servants, cleanliness. helplessness, trapped by circumstance, trying trying and trying again to fix things only to find newer and newer obstacles to achieving a happily running household. frustration. you coming home after twelve hours of work followed by eight hours of being with friends. of being lonely even when we were in the same city, living in the same house, in the same room. of the fights. god. the fights. crying crying crying, thinking of how bad this probably was for the baby and crying some more. your mouth twisted cruelly, your eyes bulging in that ugly red rimmed way they have, heaping hateful words upon hateful words. the lies, the cruelty, the horror of living. the desperation. the utter despair. the escape to my parents.
my lifeline has two parallel lines. absolutely apart, never meeting. i used to think it was because i would have an affair with you if i ever got married to anyone else. but then i changed fate – married you despite myself. perhaps the line was us all along. living happily and unhappily. living in lahore and karachi. living alone yet together. loving yet hating.
your voice reminds me of the hate. when you say i annoy you, and then hang up and then forget the nasty call and are bewildered when i’m still crying three hours later. your voice reminds me to stay away, when my body, heart and soul treacherously come back to you. what an indian movie heroine-like dilemma. i wouldn’t be able to stand watching my own lifestory on tv. how ironic.
i miss you i miss you i miss you. despite everything. despite myself. come here and take me away forever.
