Irony

My story is a complicated one that you might not understand. However that is why I am  obliged to tell it to you.  As I reflect on my situation and how I got here, rage boils inside me. The person who put me here…she deserves this. Not me.

When I think about it, my story begins earlier than what I originally thought. Way before the wedding.   Back to when we met. I had seen two applicants before her. I admired how she confidently walked in. She looked up. Her soft blue eyes, stared around the room. I remember distinctly our first conversation. She quietly on the sofa next to the library. "Hi…I'm Jack".

"Kim" she said shyly.
I hired her.  Her qualifications were limited, but it made sense at the time. After about two weeks, she still hadn't come out of her shell.

One day, she had just finished organizing the books, and immediately moved onto her next task. I saw her struggling with the coffee machine and couldn't resist helping her. I  grabbed an apron, and thought of offering some assistance, only to realize I already was.

"What are you doing?" she asked quietly.

I looked at her but said nothing.

"All fixed." I said. "You're Welcome,…Kim."

"Thanks." she said firmly.

I walked away thinking "My goodness, what a complete failure. My life is over". But then someone else must have taken control of me because I walked back over again.

"Hi." why am I doing this?

"Hey, Kim" why not?

I continued, "I just ah…I…um… So, Kim how is your day?"

"Oh, it's okay." after a brief pause she added, "Why do you ask?"

I turned to her. "Why not?"

On our wedding day she told me, "Love is a lot like hate, you see. You can't force it, and you can not resist it. You just have to embrace it when it comes along." That day two years ago is a day I wish I could redo.

The truth is I didn't love her soft eyes or her confusing demeanor. All throughout our marriage, the confusion destroyed me.  She should have never forced the love. I should have resisted. Due to her mistakes, I stand lonely. Locked away from society- envious of her position in this situation.

Hate is like love. I couldn't force her to love her. She couldn't convince me otherwise.  And likewise, the hatred eventually came along. I had no choice but to embrace it.