There are times when I think I’m in the mafia. Sure, I grew up poor, in bad areas, but somewhere in my brain I believe that I’m the godfather. In the fourth grade I tried to start my own gang. I didn’t know what a gang was but I knew that I was good at convincing people of things and I knew that I could have followers. All was nice until I wanted my gang to beat up another kid for me. That kid was a dick, and he irritated me by bullying other kids. My gang of four or five nine year olds refused to inflict violence on the larger kid, which, ya know, was smart. Since I was smaller than my fellow members I couldn’t intimidate them to encourage them to hurt someone else, so I turned my persistent, irritating nature to another cause that allowed me to lead a group of humans and started an environmental group instead. The environment totally won.
About twenty years later we come full circle to my life now. I live in Italy with my boyfriend whom I love. However, as relationships often are, it’s problematic. We have problems. It all started about eight months ago when I realized I didn’t know my boyfriend at all. He’d lied to me about most of the details from his past. I’m jaded, I’ve been the rebound girl lots of times in my life. Since I’m totally awesome it’s not difficult for me to become a distraction for men. However, distractions only last so long, and eventually they go back to what wounded them in the first place and also I’m weird. Weird isn’t fun forever. Because this has been a recurring theme in my life, and because I’m not a fan of repeating my mistakes, I asked my boyfriend in the first few months of our meeting many details about his ex’s. Unlike many women, my jealousy is usually only attached to people I have a reason to worry about. Lying or hiding is a big read flag that I have a reason to worry.
I found out the truth after we were engaged, after we’d moved in together, after we got a dog together. The truth was this: He didn’t date his ex for “four months” nearly two years before I met him as he told me. He dated her for two years, ending only three months before I met him. Tragic. This left me with the decision to leave or to stay. I chose to stay, because I love him and because I’m an idiot. He was all like, “but I didn’t love her, EVER,” and I was all, “prove it, liar-face.” He can’t prove it. Which is weird because it should be an easy thing to prove. Right?
There are a variety of reasons why proving it seems to be a challenge. One, Italians don’t like to be involved in each other’s business. Even if it’s simply validating a friend’s story. Most of his “friends” have refused to even simply tell me, “yes that’s what happened” or “no it’s not.” Another issue is that nobody really knows the truth except for a couple of their mutual friends, her, and him. He lied so obviously he doesn’t count. Their mutual friends don’t want to be involved, and neither does she.
Unfortunately I know she doesn’t want to be involved because in a moment of desperation I asked her very politely if she would be willing to confirm something for me. She never responded, rather she called Francesco and told on me (what the fuck happened to women uniting!? Rude.). I’m always shocked when people have these reactions to things. Despite being a total asshole, I’m pretty fair and sympathetic to other people. Not always, I’m not perfect obviously, but I try and I would totally talk to me in this situation. Really.
Since that didn’t work and I hate being told “no”, I’ve resorted to bribes. They work in movies, and in the place I grew up. Maybe they work in Europe too? So, I sit at my laptop trying to think of the least creepy way to bribe her. I write and re-write the email in various forms. Note that, I’m kind of being silly and joking at this point. I know it won’t work and that I’m being super weird BUT I kind of feel like doing something silly makes up for the fact that this whole thing has made me feel like doodie.
Here are the first few drafts I wrote.
“You are a stupid bitch and I hope you die. If I give you 200 euros will you talk to me about my idiot boyfriend, if not I will take the money and pay someone to pee in your shampoo.” This one would obviously not work.
“Please, this is destroying our relationship and you’re the only person that can help me. I’ll pay you, please just take pity on me and help me out.” Since she’s a heartless, evil, witch this won’t work either.
And finally, the one I chose, “I get it, you’re bitter, I’m dating your ex, and you think I’m crazy. I am. Still, I need info and you have it, how about we make an exchange, you answer a few questions and I pay you 200 euros.” This one, maybe. Hmmm.
Now, I’m aware she isn’t going to answer back. I get it. However, I am unbearably tenacious, and slightly obsessive. I rarely, rarely, give up on anything, ever. My friends have tried discouraging my many crazy or odd “goals” many times in my life. Bless them they still try to talk me into more “normal” behavior. Sometimes I wonder if they hang up the phone with me and think, “dear god there is no hope for her.” Some of my friends have resorted to the idea that eventually I’ll off myself or develop serious Prozac dependencies in my future, something to curb my non-stop crazy thoughts. I like to think that it just makes me effective rather than broken. That’s justification!
The truth is that I’m scared. Sure, anyone can lose anyone they love at anytime. People change, grow apart, fall in love with someone else, lots of things can happen in a lifetime. But, it’s entirely different to start your life with with a base of lies, deceit and the idea that they are possibly in love with someone else. I could sweep it under the rug and “move on” but anyone knows that every woman will hold that in the back of her mind for the rest of her life. Ten years from now I’d wonder still if he misses her. And he’d sure as fuck never be allowed to go to spain without me for the rest of his life. Of course. Wouldn’t it be easier to be sure?
I’ve always believed that hope is our greatest friend and biggest enemy. Hope makes us lie and trick ourselves, but it’s also the only thing that pushes our species forward. Without it, we’d give up and die off. It could very well be for the best.
But before that I’d like to focus my annoying nature to fixing my relationship so I don’t have to give up on it. I’d like people to cooperate, and since I can’t force them to do it just like in elementary school, the least I can do is make cooperating appealing. It works in the movies. And I mean, money! Who doesn’t like money!?