Fighting for Everyone to Tolerate You Leads to Being Miserable

“I’m just not sure if they will accept you. We look different. it’s just that simple.” says Cynda.

“What are they racist?” asks Mila.

“No, no! I don’t know like, it’s just that we come from different cultures. Different backgrounds. Very different ways of life. It’s not like, racism, it’s more you know, that. It’s more of a lack of understanding is what I’m saying. It’s not hate.” says Cynda.

“Don’t you think it may have more to do with the fact that I’m your girlfriend than the fact that I’m white?” asks Mila.

“Yeah no there is that too. And that is something I hate about my culture. The fact is that Caribbean culture can be very homophobic. It’s actually dangerous in Jamaica.” says Cynda.

“And you want to go there on our honeymoon?” asks Mila.

“See that’s what I’m saying.” says Cynda.

“See what? What are you trying to say here Cynda?” asks Mila.

“I’m saying that we have to think about this stuff.” says Cynda.

“Think about what? I love you. And it sounds like you’re worrying too much what other people think.” says Mila.

“I don’t know Mila.” says Cynda.

“You don’t know what? Seriously?” exclaims Mila.

“I don’t know.” says Cynda.

“Um. What does that mean? Do you love me? I just said I love you and you say “I don’t know” back. What is this?” says and asks Mila.

“Yes. You know that.” says Cynda.

“Then what’s the problem?” asks Mila.

“I’m just concerned, that’s all. We want to be parents right? And have our families get along right?”

“Why are you saying right? We talked about this.”

“I know but I’ve been thinking about how our kid’s lives will be. And how our lives will be. I feel like you can’t change people. Our families may never accept us for who we are. Not only that, but you’re white, and I’m black. We look so different. Think about all the places we’ll go and people will wonder what the deal is and why we have children with us. They’ll think we kidnapped them or something. And how will our kids feel when people constantly confuse them as not being our kids.”

“Where is all of this coming from?”

“Can you listen to what I’m saying please?” asks Cynda.

“I am and I don’t understand why you care so much what others think. Your happiness is your happiness. How can you let people have so much control over you? Who cares if they don’t accept us?”

“Um I do! I don’t want to live the rest of my life dealing with my family being intolerant of my life!”

“But that’s what I’m saying. If you’re going to let people around you dictate your happiness, then you are always beholden to their actions. And that means at some point, they will let you down. And then you won’t be happy.” says Mila.

“That’s easy to say but much harder to do.”

“You don’t have a choice. Not everyone is going to accept us, you just have to get over that. If you make it like, this life goal, that you need everyone around you to tolerate everything you do, you are set up to be miserable.”

“Well they should tolerate me.” says Cynda.

“Well you need to accept that not everyone is going to tolerate you. You need to be tolerant, of other people’s intolerance. That’s true tolerance.”


“Whatever. I’m not sure how we are supposed to be together if you really feel this way and you’re going to constantly let people control you.” says Mila.

“Excuse me?” asks Cynda.

“Yeah okay and now you’re going to play the victim. Too bad because I’m not playing. I knew you were acting weird and I knew it was because we were going to your families soon. And now you bring all this up to make a fight. Maybe you really don’t want this.”

“How dare you make all those assumptions and just wipe away everything I’m saying!”

“Well, as you know, I don’t do shouting matches, so I’m leaving.” says Mila as she gets up.

“What!? Where are you going?”

“Where I want and away from you yelling. Text me when you can calm down.”

Mila leaves as Cynda watches her from the window of their second level apartment.

Cynda watches Mila walk across the busy street below and onto the sidewalk away from their apartment building. Mila is looking down at her phone as Cynda notices a fast moving car flying down the street, out of the corner of her eyes. Another car is backing out of it’s driveway right in the path of the fast moving car. The fast moving car swerves to avoid it and loses control, and then hits the sidewalk and rams into Mila.


It’s been three months since the accident and Mila is laying in her bed at home with Cynda. Machines and devices buzz and whir next to her bed 24 hours a day. She still has not woken up and is in a deep coma. Cynda has been experiencing a whirlwind of debilitating emotion, worsen by the fact that their last interaction was their argument.

Cynda feels desperate to find a way to bring her love back.

She researches daily and finally finds an odd offer for an experimental treatment.

She calls and explains the situation to a Doctor from the program.

“So she is at home with you? That’s a bit unusual.” says and asks the Doctor.

“Look can you help me or not?” asks Cynda.

“I think we can. But obviously we need more information. Is there a time we can come see her?” asks the Doctor.

“Yeah sure let me give you our address.”

They will be coming to visit the next day.

Cynda feels hungry, it’s getting late and it’s time for dinner.

She goes and kneels next to Mila’s bed.

“I’ll be right back baby. I think I found something. I just gotta get something to eat and then I’ll tell you everything.”

Cynda returns from grabbing some dinner about 20 minutes later.

She inserts her key into her apartment door and turns it but there is no resistance.

“I really didn’t lock it?” she says out loud to herself.

She walks into the kitchen and grabs a tray from above her fridge. She can’t wait to eat and talk to Mila about the treatment. There is no way to know for sure if someone in a coma can hear you, so Cynda talks to Mila all day. It’s really the only way she can keep herself from going crazy.

She opens the door to their room and drops her food.

Mila is not in the bed.