With pain in my heart, I begin to tell you this story. It feels like had been streaked with swords several times, ripped from my body and put back inside upside down. Involuntarily, I have to think about a Foreigner song, ‘Heart turns to stone’. It feels hard, and it stings when I think back to that dreadful moment that had torn me apart right to the deepest of my soul. This is the story of a love, originated in paradis and trampled and spit out in a seemingly warm-blooded country that had become hell to me. I have thought a long time whether or not I should write this last part of the story, because of the hurt it cost me. But I would deny my very self as a writer if I would not tell you the story. This is the third and last part in a trilogy about my life with Natasha. It is a story about love, desertion, goodbyes, revenge, adversity and pain.
The moment I start this story, just after the final break, I still hope I wake up from a bad dream and she is just lying next to me, fast asleep. How could this ever have happened? I did not know the answer myself.But one thing is certain: despite everything that’s happened, I can not detach myself from the thought of her, I still love her with all my heart and soul, and I hurt myself more each day as a result of thinking about her.
She had broken off the relationship because she foresaw that it would never work out. Meanwhile, I know that she was extremely tired of my constant questions to talk, which she had no longer done for months. Every relationship is healthy as long as there is good communication, and between her and me communication had gone one-way for months; my continuous asking for to tell me what was going on. I could tell from the look on her face that something was going on, but I still could not read her mind. When she told me that she no longer wanted to go on with me, I could not believe what I was hearing. It sounded cold out of her mouth, as if she passed me a message of a missed phone call. I had been staring at her for at leastfive minutes, there on the mattress in the other bedroom. She had slept apart last night; something that I did not really find very strange, as I had repeatedly told her that I would not mind if she – because of her back – would sleep on the other mattress. She frequently got a backache from the mattress in the main bedroom quite regularly, and I had therefore told her that I would not mind if she wanted to sleep separately. Her health wasmore important to me than having her lying next to me at night. But she never had wanted that; she always persisted in lying next to me in order to be with me as close as possible. But the last few nights she finally went to sleep on that mattress in the other bedroom. There they both were, while she gave me that stab in the back dry and cold.
“I no longer want this relationship,” the words came cold and resolute out of her mouth.
My mouth dropped open in surprise. As she sat with her back against the wall, I lay sprawled on the same mattress. What had just happened? I really did not know. Was she making a joke? No, that could not be.
“It is over,” she repeated her decision.
So that was it. Without even giving me any explanation why, she had put an end to the relationship. It took a few minutes before her words came through to me. Perplexed, I sat there on the mattress in the other room where she had slept the last few nights. I did not know what had happened to me. How could she have spoken those words so cold and deliberate to me? A few days earlier, we had just decided to make a new start with our relationship. I would be more patient with her, and she would be faster to open her mouth if something was on her mind. My world had completely collapsed.
I now knew that the problem was mainly sexually because she had let me know earlier. Honesty requires me to tell that my right foot from the ankel down had been feeling numb. For that reason, making love to her was not a pleasant event. Of course, she also had her needs, that much was clear. She was Mexican, and had therefore much temperament which mainly was expressed during our lovemaking. But that lovemaking had come to a halt when I first had no feeling in my right foot, and later in my left foot. All this time she had to help herself through self-gratification. Often she did when she thought I was asleep, but sometimes I was still wide awake. That was because I went to sleep angry after our umpteenth quarrel, which often was about her not opening her mouth. No matter what I tried, or how much patience I showed, she apparently could not bring herself to say what was bothering her, while I could see from the look on her face that there was something. I simply could not read minds, so the only thing I could do was repeatedly ask her what was going on, to which she remained silent. I had even told her once, after my umpteenth question what was going on inside her mind, that – if she would not speak up – I would return to the Netherlands. Even that remark did not sort the desired effect. Even more, it had only fueled her persistence in silence.
To her belief, I was the one who had undermined the relationship. That much was made clear to me now. I was the one who had forced her to talk because of my remark about returning to the Netherlands. I was the one who had taken her for granted. And I was the one who gave her the feeling that she was ugly, naive, stupid and ignorant. To begin with the supposed stupidity: if I really thought that, I would never in my life have started a relationship with her. I do love a good conversation, and a stupid person may still be able to keep a pretty entertaining conversation but I would miss real depth in the conversation. Neither she was ugly, at least not in my opinion. Had I not fallen in love with the picture she had on her profiel page, six years ago? And had I not taken her up on her invitation to come and visit her? I had traveled to the other side of the world, just to see her! About her ignorance: that was another story. Given her upbringing, she knew quite little about certain things when I first met her. But in the inbetween years, she had learned a lot about many subjects. So I would neither call her ignorant any longer. Naïve then? Well, in some ways that might still apply to her. Certainly, life had given her many lessons to learn. And some of those lessons she had taken and learned from in a most excellent manner. But that does not mean that she could still make significant blunders every now and then; blunders that should no longer be necessary.
She was convinced that everything what had gone wrong in our relationship was my fault. And yes, I was certainly to blame for some things. I had not thought through what an impact my coming to Mexico would have on our relationship. I had not always been patient with her. I was convinced that we would always be together – talk about naïve! But to blame me for the lack of sex – and with that undermining the foundations of our relationship – that was too much! Was I to blame that my feet were feeling numb? Maybe so, but the cause of this numbness had never been investigated and therefore not diagnosed. Since we barely had enough money for groceries, and literally everything in Mexico cost money – even a visit to a general practicioner – I decided to wait until the numbness would go away by itself. That it took much longer than expected, I had not taken into account.