Two Wrongs by Wyclef Jean ft. Claudette Ortiz

Love and pain are not synonymous. Yet, still we hurt.

Transcript

Two Wrongs by Wyclef Jean and Claudette Ortiz

I am never one to perpetuate the idea that love and pain are inextricably linked. That the measure of our love for someone is how much we are willing to suffer in service to our relationship with them. No part of me equates unconditional love with unconditional tolerance or romanticizes the break-up to make-up cycle. 

I also understand that unless there are deep-seated issues, most don’t set out to intentionally hurt someone that they love. Unless we’re talking about a sociopath, it actually pains you to cause pain. Yet still we hurt. And still we love. 

That’s what Wyclef Jean and Claudette Ortiz sing about on Two Wrongs. Wyclef, of course, is most notably a member of the iconic hip-hop trio Fugees but had what I consider to be an underappreciated run of solo albums. Claudette was, at the time of recording, signed to Wyclef’s label as a member of the group, City High. City High had a solid first album that produced the hit singles Caramel and What Would You Do?—which was nominated for a Grammy.

The song opens with weeping guitar strums that reappears at the most opportune time.

Claudette has an angelic voice and is drop dead gorgeous. Destined for stardom. Combined with Wyclef’s Haitian-infused rap-singing on Two Wrongs, the duo make magic. 

They start by singing about an idyllic version of their (I’m doing air quotes) relationship. Claudette croons about forgiveness and ultimatums. She tells Wyclef what she wants, what she needs, in order to stay with him. Wyclef makes promises and tells Claudette everything she wants to hear. He’s going to come home early. He wants to have dinner with candlelight—lay up in the bed and make love all night. He begs Claudette not to go and assures her he’s matured.

Then it’s as if halfway through ruminating on whether or not to remain in the relationship, Claudette remembers just how badly her heart is aching. It’s almost like she interrupts both her own thoughts and Wyclef’s—the way she bursts onto the track with these powerful lines.

I'm so used to the rain that I
 Can't see the sunshine no more
 I'm so used to the pain that the
 The sickness feels like the cure 

Whew. That’s heavy right? I so used to the rain that I can’t see the sunshine no more. I’m so used to the pain that the sickness feels like the cure! Claudette gives us a warning of what can happen if we stay in a painful relationship for too long. It starts to feel normal. Because to us, it is. It’s our normal. And there is a comfort zone in familiarity even when it is detrimental.

Wyclef responds to this admission the only way he can, by doubling down on his love for her. He can’t dispute anything she’s said. It’s the classic, “but I love you,” response, often presented as though it conquers all. The one that appears to measure love by how much suffering a person is willing to accept in its name.

We’re human. Humans make mistakes. We will hurt those we love somehow, at some point, if we love them long enough. 

I think what differentiates inevitable human fallacy in a relationship from riding on a merry-go-round of pain is the frequency and gravity of that pain. When we’re talking about honest mistakes, errors are not egregious and problematic behavior is corrected in order to maintain healthy connection. This is not the same as reckless, willful disregard. I think when that’s happening, things cross over into toxicity. Yet, sometimes it takes us a while to see the situation for what it has become. We still see it as it once was or how we’d like it to be. 

Once reality becomes apparent, it may take longer still for us to act on the knowledge that we deserve better than a partner’s poor treatment, or to accept that they aren’t going to change. Sometimes… we stay in a relationship long after the love has left. Hoping it will return or that two wrongs will make a right.