Electric Toothbrush

I didn't want to be with him anymore so why should I care if he liked it? I could tell he was disappointed; he had that fake enthusiasm in his voice and his big fake smile on. I kept trying to show him all the various functions and speed settings you could put it on and the fabulous timer mode, but he kept trying to put it back into the box as quickly as he could. He didn't want to look at it any longer than necessary; he wanted to pretend it had never appeared in his life.

It was our one-year anniversary. For my time and trouble he had gotten me the prize of an MP3 player, which he presented to me in a grandiose and expectant fashion. An expensive and thoughtless gift, I hated computers and gadgets and I had no idea how to use an MP3 player or Ipod or whatever it was called, and furthermore, I didn't care to. I had given him an electric toothbrush from Argos. I thought my present was rather appropriate seeing as we had met in a dentist surgery. I felt it was a witty, original and inventive present and quite frankly I didn't see why I should have spent more money or got him anything more than that. Why should he be pissed off about it? Didn't he know we were going to break up anyway?

It had taken a lot of thought and consideration to get him such an excellent gift and his present in comparison to mine was careless and masculine. It's not like he also made the effort to download some romantic, meaningful songs into a play list for me so it would be personal. Nope. Just a piece of electronic equipment in a box, which he had clearly already opened (he said he wanted to check it was the right one and that it was not ‘soiled' or faulty). He even handed it to me in the plastic bag he had bought it in. I managed to mask my disgust with my usual loving flair, but I had every intention to torture him with my present.

"Well?" I said.
"Yeah, yeah, I really like it."

He smiled pitifully, and I beamed back at him. It was the best present in the world and he hated it. Typical. I was actually quite enjoying making him squirm, the prick. He blatantly didn't like his present and couldn't even be honest about that.

"Do you? Do you really? I'm so happy! You know I thought about it for a really long time and I wanted to make sure I chose the best present for you! You are going to love it! I think I might actually buy myself one too, I saw they had it in pink! Can you believe it! Why don't you go and try it out now? Oh come on, I'm so excited for you to use it! Come on, come on!"
"Babe, we're about to eat dinner. I'll use it later."

No one in the world calls me babe except him. In the beginning we fought about it but I guess I just got used to it over time. He insisted it was not patronising or offensive towards women, but a term of endearment and affection. I was not the only ‘babe' in his life, he called every female he knew, or met babe. His secretary, the middle-aged lady who cleaned his apartment, the check out girl at Tesco, not to mention all his countless female fans -sorry -I meant to say ‘friends'. It was just his charming way and after two thousand arguments I had learned to let it go, but right about now I noticed it and felt distinctly annoyed. I wasn't going to let this one go.

"No, now! Come on, don't you like your present? I can't wait till later, come on, come on! I really want you to try it out."

" Look, I'm really tired, let's just get something to eat now yeah? I've had such a long day." He paused and cleared his throat before he went on. "Do you mind if I don't stay over tonight babe? I have a really early start tomorrow and I need to get a good night's sleep."

I could feel the anger begin to bubble up under my ‘good girlfriend' hat. What was that supposed to mean? Like if he stayed over I was going to disturb him from his sleep? It was our one-year anniversary and he didn't even want to stay over with me? What did that say about his feelings for me?

"How many times have I asked you not to call me babe?"

The question squeezed its way out through my gritted teeth. It caught him by surprise and in bemusement he half smiled, half withdrew.

"I thought we had gotten over this already? What is it with you? Why do you always have to go out of your way to find something to mess up a perfectly nice evening? I really don't need this tonight of all nights. I thought we were going to have a nice time together, drink some wine, eat some dinner, relax, enjoy ourselves…"
"OK! OK! Forget it. Just forget it. Do what you like." I snapped at him.

I could feel that familiar rage beginning to coil in my stomach like a viper ready to strike and I knew once it was unleashed the night would take a turn in a way that neither of us would want to remember. Just let it go, I told myself, you don't have the energy for this and you're going to break up with him soon anyway, it's not worth fighting over.

The first time we had met was in the waiting room of Dr Astor's Dental surgery. He had called me babe even then.

"Hey babe! How long do you reckon we'll have to wait for this guy to see us then?"
"Excuse me?" I said. "Don't call me babe! Who do you think you are?"

He just laughed and patted the seat beside him. He had thought I was a very suitable candidate for him to be paired with and I wanted to believe he had somewhat met his match in me. He was indisputably gorgeous, charming and had a certain brand of charisma that was so magnetic. In our first month together he told me he loved me, and that someday he would want to marry a girl just like me. I remembered that and held onto those words, they made me want to try. And he knew it. To him that month seemed to be enough though and that sort of stuff never came up for discussion again.

Being with him was undeniably good for my ego. When we were together people looked at us. I mean really stared, I could see the longing in their eyes, their minds wondering, imagining what it would be like. People wanted to be us and have what we had, and that felt good. The thing is…it didn't seem to go further than that. Try as I might to make that image of the perfect couple be as it appeared to be, I never felt those people had anything to look at. I couldn't bring myself to accept there wasn't anything more than what he had given me to this point. I started to wonder if he really could just be this two-dimensional object: Flat, and blank, and totally insensitive. I had really believed that if I just gave more, kept giving, he would eventually see that it was safe to open up to me. That he could start to be more emotionally available. It didn't happen. If anything, it was the opposite, he became more complacent and withdrew from the relationship.

Perhaps the love I felt for him was only for the idea of him, and not actually him. How could I love him? I was so angry with him all the time and I wanted to hurt him and make him feel as bad as I did. I began to doubt everything I thought I knew. I wasn't even sure if this was really it anymore. I had let my belief in that word: love, drag on for a year. I felt I had to prove to myself that this could work; that we loved each other and if we put the effort in we could make it. The problem was, he thought that love alone was enough and it wasn't.

And so it had been a year. A long year. I had been there for him throughout, listened to all the rotten stories of how bad it was for him growing up, of the girls who had cheated on him and the girls he had cheated on. Of his father who had never really been around, of the jobs he had walked out of and the jobs that had kicked him out. Of the friends who had backstabbed him, even his ex who crawled out from under a rock, trying to get him back and break us up. I swallowed it all, dealt with the bitch's abusive phone calls at 2am and stuck by him. And yet when it came down to us, I still only came up to this point. I had had enough. I wanted to leave. I wanted to go back to me, back to being appreciated and beautiful, and back to believing the kind of love I wanted really existed. I didn't want to be with him anymore. I wanted to break up, so I didn't know why I was crying.

"Babe?" His coldness seem to thaw a little. "Babe?"

I began to sob wretchedly, the rage had nothing to do and nowhere to go but become these huge waves surging out of me.

"Don't. Call. Me. Babe." I choked out.

He smiled sheepishly, and attempted to laugh. It had been a year, a whole year and we were still here with a bloody MP3 player and an electric toothbrush. Still awkward, still stupid, and still not knowing what to say or do.

"I know it's not me calling you babe that's made you cry. Is it?" He said. "What is it? What's wrong?"

He seemed so concerned. I could feel myself soften at just hearing the change in his tone of voice. No, he just feels guilty because I'm crying, I told myself. He feels bad. Good. So he should, but it was too late now. It was all over as far as I was concerned. There was nothing he could do to change my mind. I was letting go of this, of him. I couldn't do it anymore.

"Baby?"

I wanted to tell him that I hated him, that he made me sick and that I wished I had never met him. I wanted him to know he was a cold, selfish, self-centred person who would never find love and never be loved, because he didn't know what love was. I wanted to scream at him that it was over and that I never wanted to see him again. I wiped my face on my sleeve and looked at him. I said,

"You hate the toothbrush don't you?"

The Ipod

"You hate the toothbrush don't you?"

I couldn't believe I was hearing this. She was crying about a toothbrush? I knew this was one of those situations where there was absolutely nothing I could do to make things better. I also knew exactly how this scenario would end: She would say she wanted to leave me and then run out crying hysterically into the street in the middle of the night with no shoes on. I just wanted to leave; I was so terrified of doing anything to upset her. Tonight she had been in one of her strange moods again and I could sense one of her episodes coming on. I really couldn't handle it, I had a big meeting the next day and I needed to be on the ball if I was going to win this contract. I just wanted to get that extra money on board so I would be able to afford to take her away on this surprise holiday I had been planning to take her on for her birthday next month.

I didn't give a damn about the toothbrush. I just couldn't hide my disappointment at her reaction to the top of the line pink Apple Ipod I had given her for our one-year anniversary. I had tried so hard to get her the perfect present. Something she didn't have, and something she didn't even necessarily need but that she might get a kick out of having. I had been so excited to give it to her but she just looked at me with such disgust on her face. She couldn't hide it behind those big brown eyes and big fake smile. I felt like I had been kicked in the balls as she smothered me with kisses. She hated it and all she could do was shove this stupid toothbrush in my face. I couldn't look at it, I just felt like I'd failed again. Here she was, the winner, she had got the most sincere and meaningful present, and I had just got her a piece of crap she'd never use and wasted over two hundred quid in the process.

It had been virtually impossible to get hold of this exact model as it was the latest one and wasn't even on sale over here yet. It was only available in America so I had to pull a few strings to get them to order it in for me so I would have it in time for today. It had just arrived this morning and I was so relieved. I had rushed to pick it up after work and didn't even get a chance to wrap it I had been so anxious to get back and give it to her. I couldn't wait to see her face; I was so sure she was going to love it. As I was on the tube to hers I quickly checked to make sure it was the right one and that it wasn't damaged. The last thing I wanted was for her to open the box to find it was faulty or that it was the wrong one. I had wanted to make her a play list of romantic songs and download it onto the Ipod as well, but I was worried she might think that was cheesy and unoriginal and get pissed off with me. Plus I didn't want to be late to her dinner so I thought, better play it safe, just give her this kick ass present and leave it at that. Well judging from her reaction I'm glad I didn't add insult to injury with that further waste of effort now.


Of course she hated her present, how could I have thought I might get it right this time? I don't know what conclusions she was drawing about me in her head, but she just sat there beaming at me in the weirdest way. I didn't know what to do, but I knew that I had to get out of there as soon as I could. It was not worth staying to spoil any memories we might have of this day over a toothbrush and an Ipod. I suddenly felt very very tired. I tried to make my excuses so I could avoid the scene that I could sense ensuing.

"How many times have I asked you not to call me babe?" She spat the words at me.

The question caught me by surprise and I didn't know what she was trying to do. I had always called her babe, I called everyone babe, it was no big deal and girls liked it. At the beginning she tried to argue with me about it, saying it was derogatory to women, but she got used to it after a while and even confessed to liking it once or twice. I couldn't understand why she was bringing this up again and why she was choosing to bring it up now.

"Oh just forget it." She screamed at me.

I really didn't want the evening to go the way I could see it going, but I also knew there was nothing I could do to stop it. I wanted to be here with this girl more than anything in the world and I couldn't understand why she was trying so hard to spoil it and drive me away. The fire and passion that she had in her were what had first made me fall so madly in love with her, but now it was also what was driving me away. The very first time I saw her in the waiting room of our local dental surgery I could not take my eyes off her. She was so damn cute, I couldn't just sit there and let her walk out of my life so I came out with some cheesy chat up line and she cut me down in an instant,

"Who do you think you are? Don't call me babe!"

And I fell for her big time. I had never met anyone like her who could give me a run for my money. I had met my match in her and all I wanted was to be with her and spend the rest of our lives together. I thought to myself, I'm going to marry this girl someday. I had never felt that way about anyone before. She was beautiful, smart, funny, and I loved being with her. When we were together people looked at us, I mean really stared and I felt so proud. The thing that made me laugh to myself was that none of those people knew just how amazing I felt when I was with her. In our first week together I knew I would love her forever and the fact that I knew she felt the same way just completed me. I couldn't believe how happy I was. I just don't know what happened to that.

Some days I asked myself if she even really loved me, or wanted this. She was so vicious and angry all the time; I couldn't do anything to please her. I was terrified of disappointing her, yet nothing I did seemed to be good enough and the angrier she got, the more I withdrew. She asked me all the time if I loved her and if I wanted to be with her, and as much as I wanted to make her feel better, I couldn't understand why she couldn't just accept that I loved her. She just kept pushing and pushing and I just didn't know what to do anymore.

And so it had been a year, a hard year, but also the best year of my life. She had changed me. For the first time in my life I cared about something, I felt that I had something worth living for. We had been through a lot together, she had cheated on me in our first month when she freaked out and slept with her ex. That had been hard to get over, but we got through it. There were times when we had both been unemployed and that had been a strain on the relationship too. We almost did break up when my psycho ex-girlfriend showed up and tried to get back with me. I was totally unaffected by her appearance but I wasn't the one who had a problem with it. And then there was her moods and mad insecurity, which was so relentless at times, but we got through it all. It was those tough times that only made me love this girl all the more. It had been hard, but it had all been worth it. She was the only girl I ever wanted to be with.

As her tears came, I couldn't help but feel flooded with sadness for her, but there seemed to be something different this time.

"Hey, I know it's not me calling you babe that's made you cry. Is it? What is it? What's wrong?"
"You hate the toothbrush don't you?"

I didn't know what to say. I wanted to tell her I loved her. I wanted to tell her she was the only girl I had ever loved and that I wanted to grow old with her and spend the rest of our lives together. I wanted her to know she was the most amazing, wonderful person I had ever met and that all I wanted was for her to be happy. I wanted her to realise and believe that I really loved her just the way she was. I wanted to take her in my arms and hold her and tell her everything was going to be all right. I held her face in my hands. I said,

"I don't think this is working. I think we should break up."