Hello Debora

A Story by Bobby Gustavo

A man's secret confession of love, to his wife.

Hello Debora.

I’m here, again, sitting by myself in my room, writing about you. A hobby, as one might say. You are right now preparing a meal for us, “a special one” you said. You had a small smile in the corner of your mouth and a hesitation when you said that to me, as if you were expecting me to know something. And I do. Today marks the ten-year anniversary that I proposed to you, under that starry sky of Bombinhas beach. I still have dreams about that night… I pretended I didn’t know why you were preparing “a special dinner” today… You seemed disappointed, but not sad. Your smile died away and you left the room, leaving me here alone. It broke my heart to see you that way, as it always does. When I brush you off every time I get home, for instance. “I’m too tired, dear, ok? I need to sit down and relax for a while before you bombard me with all the exciting stuff that happened at your work today, yes?”. Oh, if you knew, my love, that I just want to sit down on the couch and hear you speaking all night long. Please, do tell me what kind of seasoning you added to your soup at lunch. Tell me what Mary said when you dropped her off at school. I want to know, I want to listen to you, honey. Don’t be heart broken no more. Sit with me while I give you a foot massage and kiss your beautiful legs. Have I ever told you that your legs look exactly how they looked when we met? It’s true! I know it seems just foolishness or a lie coming from a lover’s mouth, but I can’t see it any other way.

Oh God, how I suffer not being able to tell you all these things! Debora, I love you so much. I listened to a song that Tim was showing everyone of our floor today and it reminded me of us. How we were in the past, how we used to be together and full of passion and lust. I almost sent it to you, I swear, my dear. I wrote the email but deleted before sending it. Because… I also remembered other things… I’m sorry…

My father, with his trimmed hair and his discipline, always told me not to tell a woman about the feelings I have. He told me never to let a woman see my cry. That a man must be the provider, that a man must be strong and, well, a man. I listened to all of that, intently. I was twelve at the time and he was giving me the first lecture on how to be a man. I would always listen. A year later, my parents got divorced. I saw dad crying after that.

But I digress… Debora, I need you to know one thing. I didn’t forget your birthday last month. I believe that this is the most important thing for me to tell you. I had the gift bought a week earlier. I just couldn’t wait to buy the watch you’ve been hinting on for so long. I remember staring at it for half an hour at my office, imagining how happy you would be once you looked at it. But what kind of a man would you think I am if I remembered all of that? No, I couldn’t risk it. That’s why I had Norah write the card. That’s why I had the gift delivered a day later. It sounds stupid, I know, my love. I woke up that night with you sobbing by my side. I wanted to hug you, spoon you, but what kind of a man would you think I am if I did so? That day was the worse for me, it broke my heart. But I can’t afford losing you again.

If you only knew that not even a single day goes by that I don’t long for your kisses and your smell and your voice. I caught myself yesterday about to call you. I had a terrible meeting with my boss and she made me feel like a piece of s**t for messing up a delivery. I’m usually strong with a scolding, but that one really hit me. I don’t know why, I just wanted to air that with you, but in doing so, would you still look at me the same way you do today?

What kind of a man would you think I am if I said all these things to you, my dear? If I held hands with you when we walk with the kids in the park? Or if I called you after my lunch just because I needed to hear your voice? If you knew, would you still love me?
I don’t think so. You would leave me, as you did once. On the days I was a fool not only in my heart, but also in my actions. On the days I did the stupid mistake of showing you how much I loved you. Mark is such a jerk, an a*****e. And I can’t, for the sake of me, forget all of that. Forget that the jackass had you, even if it was for one night. You did the right thing, though. IN LEAVING ME, ok? Not the rest.

I was such a crazy kid, telling you that you were the most important thing in my life. Who does that? Who likes that? You don’t want me to need you. You want me to not need you. You like your men independent, strong. And that is who I became.

Imagine the disappointment if you were to knew all of this? I can’t disappoint you, no more. I love you, Debora. I love you with all my heart and all I have. Always will. I love you more than I love the kids. What a stupid thing to say, I know. No one says that, but I do. Just for you, my lo---

- Honey, dinner is ready.

- Debora, you didn’t knock.

- I’m sorry, Will, I keep forgetting.

- That’s ok, just… Don’t do it again, ok? It kind of ruins my train of thoughts here.

- Sorry, dear, it won’t happen again.

- Thanks. I’ll be right there.

*Click*

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