I love it when across the way something is goes on with Cheryl and Kyle. They seem to have broken up a week or so back, but they clearly got back together. Comings and goings are enough to note, as are the sounds of speech. But there have been no more arguments or nights of crying. Until now.
He's had some friends over this last week, but for all I know they're just his buddies or customers. I keep saying that, as if he were dealing. I like to think so, and as long as it's not a meth lab that's going to blow up, taking my apartment with it, I'm not really one to care. But the point is that such a statement is just fiction on my part, this matter of imagination running wild in the absence of evidence.
The maintenance folks were by Wednesday and Thursday, and perhaps the night before. Knock knock knock, and then “Hello? Hello? Maintenance.” And then unlocked, entered, door shut, and then he leaves a bit later. The first time I thought, “Hrm, burglar with keys?” When he came back Thursday it seemed he was working on the kitchen sink, and at some point he had help. I wondered whether my neighbors fought and broke something, or if there was just some other reason for there to be work in the kitchen, and it's sort of like being in Plato's cave but with echoes rather than shadows, just sounds that I hear but often don't understand, and so my understanding of the drama next door is limited.
Then they came home Thursday evening. Keys jingling. Perhaps just him, nothing said, just the keys, then the lock, the door, opened and closed and locked.
Then the two spoke. And then she demanded he pay attention to her, claiming he blew her off last night. He said he was going to go see a friend and would be right back. She says, “I want you to show me some love.“ To show her love, affection, attention. Kiss her. Pay attention to her. Spend time with her. Indeed, they're back together after last week's blow up.
She screeched, he retorted but rarely and barely raised his voice, then she came close to shouting with the same high volume throughout as if she wanted everyone to hear. And then some crying and bawling and high-volume proclamations. It's difficult to feel guilty about writing about the neighbors when they seem to beg for it.
He got his keys, opened the door, shut it, locked it, and stomped down the stairs and out of the building. So she cried alone and loudly.
Were she alone in the wilderness she would be easy prey for wolves or mountain lions or bears, drawing such attention to herself.
Lions and tigers and bears ... oh my!
I swear that ***** has some sort of hormonal imbalance, something driving this mood thing. She's cried enough over the months to fill a reservoir. Their relationship is clearly dysfunctional and yet in the morning they'll go get coffee together, they'll chat, they'll be unified; were someone to interfere and tell them, especially her, about this being a ****** up relationship, they'd fight back as one, but at night she'll wail again, cry, bawl, try to get him to stay with her. It seems like an attention-seeking move.
We're in the 21st century in a liberal city. He doesn't have much size on her (she is shorter but weighs more, I think) and has little physical advantage, and from the sound of it I can imagine her getting violent before he would. I can't comment regarding emotional abuse or such—and I'm just observing in any case—but she's the one playing the affection card, though perhaps he puts her down in subtle ways, in jabs, when they're together but not here, perhaps he's controlling, but I haven't seen it.
In other words, if this is a screwed up relationship, an unhappy one, she could or should leave.
Then they argued on the phone. He must have said he's sorry, but she still chewed him out. I suspect that she's the controlling one, insecure but controlling, manipulative, an emotional blackmailer. “Feel sorry for me.“ Perhaps these two deserve each other, perhaps he can't do any better, but I must ask myself, what sort of stupid guy would ever want to be with a woman who acts like this, not just once, but frequently? How emotionally retarded are these people?
It is amusing, I admit, but I can't generate sympathy for either of them and were I to let myself feel anything about or for them, I could only despise them as people.
—March 16 2007