Georg rolled over, still more than half asleep, and reached his arm across to Maria's side of the bed. Even though they had argued the day before he loved the nearness of her. During the years that he was married to Agathe he was frequently given the advice to never go to bed angry. In his opinion, after plenty of experience, that wasn't good advice. Sometimes he – or she – was just exhausted and the exhaustion could fuel anger or upset and lessen one's communication skills. In his opinion, sometimes going to bed was the only way to get out of being angry.
Unfortunately, he was still unbelievably frustrated to be holed up here in Switzerland while Hitler was beginning to play out his insane ideas. This was an upset that went beyond a good night's sleep. It was the frustration of feeling trapped and useless when he knew good men must be needed.
Nevertheless, in his still half asleep state he reached over to rest his hand on Maria's chest, wanting to feel her warmth. When he found nothing there except a mattress he came quickly and fully awake. Sitting up he saw a note propped up on her pillow and for a mad moment thought that she had again written to tell him she had returned to the abbey.
He calmed himself down with the knowledge that even if she was angry at him she would never leave the children now that she was their mother, and with the fact that she couldn't go back to the abbey. It was in Austria.
Was that what was bothering her? He knew something was wrong but he had been so engrossed with his own feelings of helplessness he hadn't done much more than condemn her. Georg thought back on his behavior with a flush of shame. That was not how the head of a family behaved. Not how a good, loving husband behaved. And yet … and yet … this was all wrong again. It was wrong for him to be here not doing anything to help the situation in Austria – a situation that he knew must be deteriorating.
He sighed rather than swear again, remembering Maria's admonishment the earlier day. He picked up the note and opened it, his mouth suddenly dry with anxiety.
All it said was that she had to go away for the day, to please kiss the children for her and walk Marta and Gretl to and from school. It also assured him that she would be home by dinner.
'Damn,' he thought to himself 'damn, damn, damn!' How had he let things get to this state? He had obviously been so absorbed with himself that now he didn't even know where his wife was.
Georg felt more useless than ever. The reason they had fled to Switzerland wasn't just because he refused to fight for the Third Reich, it was also to keep his family together. Now he wasn't even doing that. In his frustration and helplessness he rolled over and punched his pillow. He punched it again, and again. Eventually he gave up – that pillow was neither Hitler nor Herr Zeller. There was no point in punching it.
He could smell breakfast cooking so he got out of bed and quickly got dressed and ready for the day. With Maria gone he would probably need to help Gretl get dressed. As he thought about it he realized he didn't even know when the local school began.
Georg hurried downstairs. The children were already beginning to congregate for breakfast, and he was relieved to see that Gretl was already dressed.
The family of eight gathered together, the chair at the opposite end of the table was painfully empty. Georg tried to keep his eyes off of it and focus on the children, but he could see how much they were looking at the empty seat.
Finally, Marta spoke the question on everyone's mind. "Father, where's Mother?"
"I don't know, Marta," he hated to admit it, "but I know she'll be back later today."
"Where did she go?" Gretl asked. "She came in and helped me get dressed and she kissed us and said she'd be back later today, but she didn't say where she was going."
Admitting ignorance wasn't working. They weren't satisfied with it, and neither was he. "She had some business to attend to," he replied obliquely and hoped that they wouldn't question him more.
"Is she really coming back?" Marta asked, this time barely above a whisper. "Or did she go to the abbey?"
He looked Marta squarely in the eyes and spoke with full confidence, "she will be back by dinner. Today. She did not go back to the abbey. She will never leave you, not since she became your Mother. She's just had to go away for the day, but she will return by this evening."
The confidence Georg had that, despite any problems between them, she would never leave the children, gave his words a reassuring ring of truth. He looked at each of his children in the eyes, making certain that they understood and believed him. Finally satisfied he began eating again, encouraging the children to do the same. Every one of them stared down at his or her plate, picking valiantly at the food, unable to look at the empty chair anymore.
Georg could have figured out where Maria was if he had really thought about it, but he didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to think of where his wife might be – without his knowledge and without planning it with him. He just wanted this day to pass as quickly as possible so that she would come home and he could talk to her.
oooooooooooooooooo
Maria was already in the mountains, climbing higher and higher with every step. She tried to sing, she had thought that being in the mountains would lift her spirits and inspire her to start singing. But she had no spirit for it. So she began to force herself to sing but all she could manage were some scales and arpeggios.
Words of one of her favorite songs kept echoing in her head: "I go to the hills when my heart is lonely..." She had woken up with those words in her head and felt irresistibly compelled to go into the mountains. At the time it had seemed like an answer to a prayer, but she wasn't so sure anymore. Still, she kept walking. Something in her simply wouldn't allow her to turn around and walk back down to her house and all of the problems and insecurities that plagued her there.
Maria wrapped her arms around herself, feeling a sudden chill. Her heart was as lonely as it had ever been, and was feeling lonelier with every step. She had thought that in getting married and joining this large family that she loved so much she would never be lonely again. She had been so wrong about that. She was lonelier than she had ever been before, almost feeling like an outsider in her own family. Why weren't the music and mountains making her spirits soar like they always had before?
In a way, it was worse that she was here. She hated herself for leaving her family, even for just part of a day. They were still getting settled in Dorfli and she knew they needed as much stability as possible. Having their new mother go away – even briefly – couldn't be helping. She wished she could turn around and go back, but it was almost as though her feet and her very soul were possessed by a force that compelled her to keep walking – to keep walking away from Dorfli and away from her family.
She had known that her absence would not be easy for the children so she had made sure to see each of them before she left – waking them up, kissing them, reassuring them that she would be back that day and even helping Gretl get dressed. The only person she hadn't woken up or kissed goodbye was Georg. Somehow she felt as though he wouldn't care so she only let him a note.
Was he even thinking about her, she wondered, or was he still too angry about what was happening in the world to notice or care? And yet she blamed herself entirely for their argument, for the way things had begun to deteriorate between them. Why couldn't she just support him, tell him how much she loved him and was proud of him? The truth was, Maria didn't think she could do or say anything that would help him. She felt useless against the force of his rage – a rage she didn't even completely understand. Forgetting that she had once cut through an icy exterior that he had cultivated for years, Maria was again falling prey to her doubts about herself. She was letting her own insecurities dominate her and yet she felt powerless against them. Powerless against the loneliness, the isolation and the embarrassment.
What had she thought? That the differences between them, between their backgrounds, between their educations, between who they were would just vanish under enough love? Yes, that was exactly what she had thought when she had thought about it (which hadn't been often when she was honest about it).
She realized that she had stopped singing. She had finished her scales and arpeggios and there was no more music in her for the moment. The day was beautiful, she had to admit that. It was exactly the kind of day that would have lured her up into the mountains and away from the abbey. Today, though, she wasn't in the mountains for the love of it, but to escape from something that was inescapable.
So she kept walking. She didn't know where she was going, but her feet did. After a few hours she found herself in a familiar valley. There was Herr Kramer's house and there was his barn where she had slept with her family. Things had been so much simpler just a few weeks ago. Scarier, but far more simple. She and Georg had to get themselves and their children safely to Switzerland - that was their sole focus.
Certain that he was working, Maria didn't want to disturb Herr Kramer. Instead she sat down in her favorite spot, where she used to look down the valley in the direction of Dorfli and miss Georg. She sat quietly down in her old spot, brought her knees up to her chest, wrapped her arms around them and laid her head down upon her knees. She wasn't sure how long she had sat there, just looking at the beautiful valley around her before Herr Kramer found her.
oooooooooooooooo
Tobias Kramer had been working in the barn when his stomach told him it was time for lunch. Walking back into his house, he was thoroughly startled to see Maria sitting by the house. She was wrapped around herself in a posture he had never seen before. He didn't know how long she had been there, but he could tell something wasn't right. It wasn't like her to not say anything to him – to not even let him know she was there. When she had lived with him over those few short days he had so often heard her singing and it was not like her to be so quiet. Her very posture indicated unhappiness. She was also totally unaware that he had seen her. There was definitely something wrong.
Well, he decided, there was no use in guessing. He walked quietly to his house, careful not to disturb her reverie. While in his house he made two sandwiches of bread, cheese and salted meat. Carrying them both he left the house and walked up to her. He sat down next to her and silently handed her one of the two sandwiches.
If she was startled to see him he would not have known. She turned to look at him, almost as if she had been expecting him, and took the sandwich he offered her without a word. It felt good to be with him. He was one of her people – mountain born, bred and educated. She smiled gratefully at him, although the smile didn't reach her eyes. Side by side the older man and the young woman sat together, eating their simple lunches and looking down across the alm.
Tobias wasn't good at this sort of thing. Living alone he didn't have reason to talk that much, and he certainly didn't know what he could do to help her. However, he had grown to love Maria as a daughter and didn't want to leave her when she was so obviously unhappy. For a long time they sat together in comfortable silence, though he could feel her unhappiness radiating from her.
Finally he broke the silence by asking about Anna, Johanna and Karolina. "Oh, yes, thank you for that," she assured him. "They have been wonderful. There isn't as much sewing to do now, so Johanna is working more as a housekeeper. She only helps Karolina with the sewing now when there's a special project they're both needed on." "I think … I'd like to think … that they are as happy with us as we are with them."
"I'm sure they are," he replied. "I see Anna from time to time when she's visiting her family and she always tells me how wonderful you and your family are. She's very happy."
This reassurance didn't seem to work, for having finished her sandwich Maria again pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapped her arms around them and stopped talking again.
Tobias would have been happy to sit with her in silence for the rest of the day, but he could tell that was not what she needed. She had come to him for a reason. Was it because he was still her only friend, or was it for deeper reasons? Finally he decided on a more direct approach.
"Maria, what happened?" he asked.
She turned her head, again resting on her knees, and looked at him sadly. He didn't press her for an answer. He knew she would speak when she was ready to.
"I suppose", she finally responded, "that school happened."
He didn't understand that answer, so he just sat there until she felt ready to continue. Maria appreciated his silence more than anything. The lack of pressure and the companionable quiet was fortifying and allowed her to gather her thoughts.
After several more minutes of silence she began to speak again. "Georg and I haven't been married for very long. We had a very fast engagement, and had only just returned from our honeymoon when we had to – when we found our way up here and met you. We never really had the chance to get used to being married."
This was no news to Tobias. He had been able to tell that they were newlyweds.
"And he," Maria continued, "he's a Baron. He's so educated. So accomplished. He's seen so much and done so much. I knew that when I married him, but I loved him and the children so much that I didn't think it would matter."
"I'm not like … them," she continued after a few minutes. "I haven't had their education. Oh, I've been to school, my mother made sure of that. And she made sure that I kept reading and learning even after school had ended. But they – they've had the best education money can buy! And when I'm with Georg … well, I've hardly seen anything of the world. He's seen and done so much. Sometimes, as much as I love him, I wonder what we're doing together. Why did he ever fall in love with me? Was it just for the children? If so - I don't even speak English, and I'm the only one in the family who doesn't. I'm more like you. I grew up in the mountains. I worked for my family and then I decided to be a nun.
That was definitely news to Tobias. He couldn't see Maria as a nun. He couldn't imagine her in that kind of life.
"I never took my vows." She kept telling her story. "It was while I was a postulant that I was sent by the Reverend Mother of our abbey to be a governess to the wealthy von Trapp family … but only until school began."
'So that's how this family came together,' Tobias thought to himself. The missing pieces were coming together, but he still didn't want to say anything. He didn't want to interrupt her story. He hoped that soon she would be able to explain this sadness that had come over her.
"While I was serving as their governess I grew to love all of the children as though they were my own. Still, I never dreamed that I would join this family and become their mother until I … until I realized that I was in love with their father as well. I left. I went back to the abbey. I felt that to have asked for his love would have been wrong. I had never been in love before and I was scared. I had no idea how to handle it. Finally I admitted that love to the Revered Mother. She told me that I had to go back see if that was the life God had intended for me, that in loving Georg I didn't love God less. So I went back. It was so good to see the children, but that very night Georg told me that he was in love with me. It all happened so fast. We were engaged then we were married. I knew that I had found the life God had intended for me, and I love my whole family so much."
She paused again, as though looking back on times past. "I just didn't realize how big the differences were in our backgrounds. That's something that's not going to change, no matter how much we love each other. Georg is teaching the older children now – at home. He's brilliant at it, but suddenly I feel so much less than them. They're learning things that are already far beyond me."
Maria turned and looked at him and finally said what was bothering her most: "What kind of mother compares herself to her children? And I'm supposed to be a partner to my husband. What do I possibly have to offer him?"
After a long pause Tobias realized that she was done speaking and was probably waiting for him to say something.
"Well, I don't know about that," he admitted, "but I do know that your family – your husband and every single one of your children – loves you every bit as much as you love them. They don't care where you came from."
"I know," Maria agreed. "That's what makes it so much worse. I'm the only one that seems to care about this. I'm the only one who can't get past our cultural differences."
'Well, that didn't help,' Tobias thought regretfully. He was at a loss. He didn't know what to do or what to say. But he loved Maria and wanted to help her.
"Get up," he said finally, and stood up.
"Come on, get up!" Tobias repeated firmly when Maria didn't move.
"Why?" Maria asked. She was comfortable where she was and didn't particularly feel like getting up.
"Well, I don't think I'm the best person to be talking to right now. I'm not a parent. I've never had children or been married." He looked down at Maria and admitted the truth: "I don't know if there are any right things to say here, but if there are, I'm not the one who knows them. There is someone, though, who might have a better idea. So come on, get up, we're going to see her."
Tobias reached out his hand to help Maria up. She looked skeptically up at his face, but could tell that he was adamant. Finally she took his hand and stood up.
"Where are we going?" she asked, but he just shook his head, refusing to answer.
After going into his house while Maria watched him make another sandwich that he tucked inside his coat, they walked across the valley for about 20 minutes. Tobias continued to refuse to tell her where they were going. He didn't want to give her any excuse to not follow him. Eventually he commented wistfully, "I think this is the longest time I've been with you that I haven't heard you sing."
Maria sighed behind him. "I know," she agreed. "I thought coming up here and being in the mountains would make it all better somehow, but I can't sing. There's just no music."
"Well, I for one, have never heard anyone sing as beautifully as you. I have missed hearing you sing. And I would consider it a great favor if you would sing something for me." He did want to hear her sing, but he also thought it would be good for her.
"Please?" he asked again, stopping the walk to look at her.
Maria's heart melted a little at the hopeful look in his eyes. He was being so kind to her, he had done so much for their family. The least she could do was give him what he asked for.
She nodded, filled her lungs and began to sing the song that had been in her head all day, the song whose line had inspired her to come up to the mountains today.
oooooooooooooooo
A short time later they arrived at another house in the alm. Maria could quickly tell that it was not only smaller than Herr Kramer's house it was also poorer and in need of repairs.
Herr Kramer knocked on the door and then walked right into the house without waiting for an answer. It seemed to be a knock of greeting rather than a request.
The main room of the house was small and dingy. There was very little furniture and those few pieces were old. It was obvious that someone took as much care of this house as possible, but that person was fighting a losing battle. There was only one person in that room: a woman older than Herr Kramer, older than the Revered Mother. She was sitting in a chair by the window but Maria could tell by the white film over her eyes that she was blind. She was wrapped in a blanket that stood out from the rest of the items of the room because it was obviously new.
The old woman turned her face to the door and smiled. "Tobias," she said happily. "And you've brought someone new to visit me."
Tobias, with Maria in still tow, walked towards this blind old woman. "Good afternoon, Grandmother," he greeted her. "I have brought someone to talk to you."
Maria suspected that this woman was not Herr Kramer's actual grandmother, but that he was using the term as a title. Suddenly, what she knew came together in her mind and she realized this was the Grandmother that she had heard about, and the actual grandmother of their cook, Anna.
The Grandmother reached out a hand in greeting and Maria clasped it in both of hers. "This is Maria von Trapp," Tobias explained.
The Grandmother sighed in familiar acknowledgement. "Anna is very happy working for you. She says you are a kind, good woman. Your whole family has been good to her. Thank you."
"Oh, thank you for sharing her," Maria replied. "She has been an excellent addition to our household. She is sweet, good and hardworking. We all like her very much."
The Grandmother nodded again in acknowledgement. Fingering her blanket she explained that Anna had just given it to her. The pride in her voice was evident. Maria realized that Anna had used her wages to buy this new blanket for her grandmother, and was even happier that they had hired her.
"Something tells me, though, that you didn't just come to talk about my Anna," the Grandmother finally said. It was a statement as well as a question.
Tobias answered before Maria could. "Maria is new to her marriage and is new to being a mother and needs to talk. She has no real friends in Dorfli, and since I've never been married or had children I thought you would be a better person for her to talk to than me."
Within a few minutes, Maria found herself sitting on a low stool by the Grandmother, pouring her heart out about her marriage, her children, and the educational and class differences between them.
"… and I love them all so much, I don't know why I am feeling this way. It terrifies me that whatever children I may have will become one of them as well. Oh, did you hear that? 'One of them,' as though we are not all a family. I hate myself for feeling this way." She finally trailed off and the three of them sat in silence for a few minutes.
"Maria," the Grandmother asked after a few minutes, "are you afraid that they will look down on you?"
Maria had not thought of that quite so clearly before. "Someday, yes," she admitted. "Oh, Grandmother, does that make me a terrible person?"
"Your thoughts or fears do not make you a good or bad person. If they did I would have gone to Hades many years ago." The Grandmother began to laugh at this little joke. The laugh quickly turned into a cough and she had to wait to finish coughing before she could continue. "I've never been wealthy," she was finally able to say. "The man I married was anything but an aristocrat. We loved each other … but I can't say I know how you are feeling."
She reached out with her left hand until she found Maria's head, and then she began to stroke her hair with great tenderness. "But I do know a few things. I know that when you become a parent you don't stop being a person. Who you are – that is always with you whether you like it or not. I also know that if you don't love and respect yourself, other people never will. Or at least it will be harder for them to do so. If you want to be happy and be a good mother to those children you must find a way to love yourself for who and what you are."
This had never occurred to Maria. Loving and respecting herself had never been a problem until these last few weeks, just as she had never been embarrassed about who she was until recently.
"I also know that this husband of yours knew exactly who you were when he married you. If he had wanted you to be different he would have married someone else. Now, Anna tells me how close your whole family is to each other. I don't think I'm the person you really need to be talking to, and neither is Tobias. The person you really need to be talking to is your husband. A marriage requires two people. Making it work, well that also requires two people."
"Yes, Grandmother," Maria didn't know what else to say. She wanted to talk to Georg about all of this, she had wanted to for weeks, but she didn't know how. Especially given how frustrated he had been lately. He seemed so angry with her all of the time, how in the world could she pour her heart out to him about such trivial matters? But she couldn't explain that – she couldn't discuss any of that with anyone. No one could know the circumstances that had brought her family here. Not even Tobias or the Grandmother. All of her self doubt still preyed on her.
"Thank you for taking such good care of my Anna," the Grandmother told her. The conversation had obviously come to an end.
"We love her and we love having her. She takes good care of us," Maria assured her.
The Grandmother gave her another wide smile.
Here Tobias cut in. "Have you had any lunch, Grandmother?" The Grandmother waved him away impatiently. "My son will be home soon. I have all I need."
"Well, it's just that I have an extra sandwich. If you don't want to eat it, I'm afraid it will go to waste."
The Grandmother glared suspiciously in his general direction, but eventually beckoned him closer and reached out for the sandwich. "Food should never go to waste," she admonished him.
"Then I guess you'll have to eat it," he responded, unfazed.
"I'll save it," she affirmed, but Maria guessed that she would probably eat most of it once they had left.
ooooooooooooooooooooo
Maria walked outside with Tobias. "Thank you," she told him gratefully. "I'm so glad to have met her." She knew that her problems were not solved, but the Grandmother had given her things to think about. Plus, her dignity and self assurance had been a good reminder to Maria that an upbringing of hard work was not necessarily anything to be ashamed of.
'I suppose its how you choose to view yourself,' she thought. But still, she was embarrassed and felt badly for having left for the day. She doubted all of her decisions lately. Those emotions hadn't just left. She knew she had to talk to Georg but she didn't know how, especially these days. He was resembling more of a caged tiger than her husband, and seemed to have no time for her anymore
But she had promised her family she would be back in time for dinner, and she knew she needed to leave soon. As they returned to Herr Kramer's house she surprised him by hugging him, and thanked him again.
"It was so good to see you again. And I'm glad to have finally met the Grandmother." They said their goodbyes and she was off.
This time her heart did feel lighter, and as she walked back down the mountain she sang one of her favorite classical pieces. The soprano solo of the Laudate Dominum movement of Mozart's Vespera Solemnis di Confessore was best if backed up by a small orchestra and choir, but she still loved it on its own, and soon the mountains were once again filled with her soaring voice.
oooooooooooooo
Georg was not having a good day. He had been filled with anxiety about Maria's absence. Compared to the children, he was the one having the worst time. After her painfully conspicuous absence at breakfast, the children had all seemed to take it in stride that she was just away for the day and would be back that evening.
He told himself that he didn't like the idea of his wife being out and about – who knows where – without asking him first. Or even telling him first! The reality was that Georg was scared that he had driven her off for the day. They had that fight just the day before, and there was no doubt that he had become increasingly unpleasant these last few weeks. He had taken his agitation out on Maria just the day before when he knew that she was having her own emotional hardships, even though he had no idea what they were.
The questions and doubt kept coming back into his head: 'Why did I have to snap at her? Why couldn't I just have talked to her? I don't even know what she's so upset about, why couldn't I have just asked?' It seemed like an endless chorus in his head throughout the day.
Georg knew that a marriage could not work when either spouse – let alone both spouses – weren't communicating well. He hadn't meant to let his temper get the better of him but it had. Now Maria was gone and he was afraid it was his fault and that he was letting her down as a husband.
He could barely face those fears, though, so he told himself that he was upset with her for disappearing without at least telling him about it before hand. And he worried about how she was.
When Maria finally came home shortly before dinner she smelled of fresh air and sunshine, and he knew that she had been in the mountains. He chided himself again; he could have easily figured that out.
She greeted all the children enthusiastically – they were all delighted to see her again even though she had only been gone a few hours. But him – him she could barely face. They stood in his office while she asked how the day had gone and how the children had been. She seemed almost repentant, but not quite. Georg was having a hard time identifying her attitude and behavior towards him, but he knew he didn't like it. As she turned to leave his office, not yet having looked him squarely in the eyes and not having apologized for or explained her absence it hit him: she was scared and she was angry as well.
He could understand her anger after their fight the other day – he had been hard on her and had barely even given her an opportunity to speak. Still, her anger made him feel all the more furious at the situation. What was happening to them?
But her fear - that was the worst yet. His wife was afraid of him. Once he had ruled his family through intimidation but that was all behind him, wasn't it? He just loved them. He was strict with the schooling but he loved them with all of his heart, especially Maria. Her fear made him feel afraid. He was afraid of how he had hurt her yesterday, afraid of the powerful rage he was feeling and how it was evidently impacting his entire family. Most of all he was angry with himself for having frightened her. This was his fiery, free spirited wife, and she was afraid of him. Had he somehow become a tyrant again?
He wanted to take her in his arms and reassure her. He wanted to ask her to tell him everything that was troubling her. He wanted to bury his head in her hair and tell her everything that he was feeling about being trapped here in Switzerland. He wanted to tell her he loved her. Instead he heard the words coming out of his mouth almost as though they were coming out of a stranger.
"Maria!" he snapped. She turned back to him but also took a step away from him. For some reason this enraged him more. "Please remember that you are my wife and I am the head of this family. The next time you see fit to disappear for a day I would appreciate it if you let me know about it first." He put all the sarcasm he could into those words. There was no doubt that it was an order rather than a request.
Now she looked him in the eyes. "As you wish, Captain," she said more coldly than he had ever heard her before. "Any other instructions?"
His reply was equally icy; "That's all for now. Thank you."
oooooooooooooooo
Maria could tell when she was being dismissed. She walked calmly out of his office without another word and without looking back. She wanted to go outside to the backyard, but didn't want to be found by the children. She wasn't in the mood to comfort, sing or play. So she went up to her bedroom, uncomfortably aware that this was Georg's space as well.
She felt more estranged than ever, more out of place, more different from the rest of her family than she ever had. Georg had treated her like a servant again, like she was the governess to his children and nothing more. Without knowing it he had preyed on all her embarrassment and self doubt and made it worse.
Maria sat on their bed and put her head in her hands. How was she going to prevent this from making her show her insecurity around the children? And above all, how in the world was she going to be able to talk to Georg about all the things that had cropped up between them? She had felt lighter and freer coming back down from the mountains, and now she felt worse than ever. In the past the mountains had always been able to fill her lonely heart, but she had never been in love before. For months that love had been the greatest joy of her life, but now it was causing her pain she had never known before. Maria had not thought it possible for her heart to hurt this much.
Downstairs Georg was also feeling more upset and angrier than ever. He knew he had just made things between them much worse. Why couldn't he get control of himself long enough to say all the things he wanted to say to Maria? Why couldn't he be there for her and show her how much he loved her? He didn't mean to take his anger out on her, but he couldn't seem to help it. What was this other force that seemed to overtake him? How in the world was he going to be able to push that aside in order to actually talk to her?
He had never felt more lonely, or more useless.