Female 30 +. 611 Words. Deanna: “What to do about Bobby?” From Remote.
By Paul Pasulka
So, what do you think? Should we, um... Should I be seeing him? No, answer, hunh?
You ever think about bein' a lawyer...? Probably couldn't stand the cut in pay. No! No. A joke. Just a joke. Jeez, do you take everything seriously? Though you would think it might entitle me to have a question answered. Yeah, I get it. My question, my answer? Hate to run into you in a deposition. Hmm... Bobby. You made a comment last time, that he was - is, important to me. He was so important to me, especially when I first met him. When I was with him, it felt like nothing bad could happen. When I finished college, he took me to dinner, and gave me a leather briefcase, and said, “Now you're going to law school.” I was stunned. Nobody in my family ever even went to college. I mean, I figured I'd just keep working as a secretary...
So, what's the problem? You mean, except for the fact that we're not married? We don't live together. We can't even date, really. We've been on, like, two vacations in what? Thirteen years? He's been in my apartment twice, and I've been to his house once – after which he threatened to kill me? You mean except for that – what's the problem?
It was a work party. He told me, well, like insinuated? - that I shouldn't come? So my girlfriend, she said she'd take me out for a drink, like, if I couldn't go there. And we had a few, and we were talking, “Blah, blah, blah... Who does he think he is – you work there,” and next thing you know, we're there. Man, was it beautiful. The living room? The ceiling was like, three stories, with skylights, and the fireplace was as big as my living room... I met his wife. It was all so perfect. Like what I always wanted – the whole thing. His wife didn't seem too happy to meet me. And he was pissed. Like in the cartoons – there was like smoke coming out of his ears...
I was afraid to go to work the next Monday. And sure enough, “Ms. Meade will you come into my office, please.”
He closed the door, and he – his eyes, they were like, I don't know, like possessed, and he, um, grabbed me by the throat and pins her against the wall.
“If you ever so much as come within five miles of my house so help me God, I will kill you!”
But, like, I, I know he didn't mean it. I mean, he can be a little rough, sometimes, and the sex... But, no, Bobby would never really hurt me.
Look, I probably gave you the wrong impression. In many ways Bobby's been like a fa – Oops.... I didn't mean that. Now, don't get all Freudian on me. No. I'm not afraid of him. I'm not! I mean, he's says he loves me, sometimes, and we make love, or have sex, or whatever, but...I always thought that if someone says, like, “I love you,” it should mean that, um, they want to be with you? Right. He says he loves me, and I believe him, and he says he’ll kill me, and I don’t.
(Pause.) There was this guy at the meeting last night? He was talking about going through a period where he really missed alcohol, like it was a lover that treated him badly, but he couldn't bring himself to leave her, because sometimes. I mean, if that's true... I had alcohol, and Bobby... And now… What do I do? About Bobby?