"Because I love him." I hate that phrase! Completely loathe it! It is my all-time least-favorite chick phrase! How incredibly weak and pathetic does a woman have to be to utter those words? It's so ... Patsy Cline!
I have this friend, she's German or Russian or some other thing that she has told me no less than a half a jillion times, but her English being what it is, I can never remember. Her name is Janka, pronounced Hunka, like hunka burnin' love, and she is nothing short of amazingly beautiful. Janka is a model. She has a gigantic backside, but you'd never be able to tell in her modeling pictures because she is a hand and foot model.
This woman has more confidence in her pinkie than I have in my entire body. Perhaps it's the fact that she makes more money than any woman I know. You'd be surprised how much someone is willing to pay to have you model their rings or nail polish or bunion pads. Or perhaps it's because she truly does have the most beautiful hands and feet I've ever seen. Either way, it is this confidence that makes her ooze sex appeal.
Whenever we walk into a room, it's as though I have become invisible. She rules the roost. For Janka, it's like shootin' fish in a barrel. Her problem is that no matter how many men fall all over themselves for the chance to buy her a drink or ask her to dance, or just talk to her, she only has eyes for Elvis.
His name really isn't Elvis, it's Buzz, like that's any better, and Buzz is an Elvis impersonator. And he doesn't impersonate the young, svelte, sexy, just-got-drafted Elvis. No, he's more like the big, fat, choked-to-death-on-his-own-vomit Elvis. And he treats Janka like crap.
For instance, on her birthday, she sat in a restaurant wearing an evening gown and a tiara (she can do that—she's a model—anyone else would just look weird) and waited and waited and waited for Elvis to show up. Not only did he stand her up, but after she paid the bill for her birthday dinner for one, as she was exiting the casino where the restaurant was, she saw him sitting at a piano bar with some floozy Jane Mansfield type, singing his rendition of "Jail House Rock" as a love ballad.
"Dat was ah song ... he was singing ah song to ha ... on my birfday," she sobbed the next day.
"What a no good lamb-chop-wearing, gold-rimmed-glasses-sporting, beer-belly-protruding-over-his-bad-Elvis-costume-belt, song-ruining son of a ..." I said sympathetically. But I stopped myself, sure of what she'd say next.
"How could he? He did not even attempt for calling and apologizing de nex day..." she sniffled. "He ruined my birfday, I had new dress, new hair, new tiara. I vas feeling like princess."
"I'm sorry, honey," I said carefully. "Janka? Sweetheart, why do you put up with him? Why don't you just put him on the catch-and-release program? You could do so much better. You're beautiful, smart, funny and for hell's sake, you're the best hand and foot model in the industry."
She looked up at me and smiled a tiny, sad smile before uttering the words I hate most. "Because," she said, "I love him."
I wanted to take her by her shoulders and shake her until her teeth rattled! "What in the hell is wrong with you, woman? You could have any man you wanted, you could have any man I wanted—why would you waste your time with this loser who doesn't recognize your beauty, your heart, your mind? WHY?"
But before I could say one word, she said, "Sonja, ve can't help who ve ar in loves wid. Ah hearts are blind. Janka does love hu Buzz. And wit him, I know what I have. For you to jump like little froggy from one to de otha loos-a, jumping, alvays jumping, you neva know vich loos-a you going to get. One vants wear your panties, one is in love wit anotha mans, at least I know my Buzz. I love my Buzz. When I look into de eyes of my Buzz, I see it, the love he has for me, too. Maybe he is scared like little boy, but it is there. For you it is not to understand. Only for me. Someday maybe I figure out, but not for you to say. I do loves you for caring. Tank you."
Loosely translated, I was sure she'd just dogged me. And what's worse is that she made a point. Not necessarily a good point, but a point. She stayed with Buzz because she knew what she had. She knew how bad it could be, and it was good enough for her. She loved him and no matter how I or anybody else felt about him, he was her man, and she wasn't going to walk away from him. And she was right, I didn't lay next to him in bed at night, holding him in my arms, feeling what she felt, what they felt for each other. I didn't look lovingly into his eyes and see what she saw. Was it really my place to judge?
I decided that as her friend, even though I despised the man, it was my job to support her and to love her regardless. At least until she got to a point where I felt that she was hurting herself. Then I knew I'd have to decide whether to keep her in my life or to let her go on her own way and continue making the choices that she wanted to live with.
At this point, I chose Janka, my friend, my beautiful, funny, confused friend. I was willing to do that, because I love her.