"CURLING STORY" part 4 of 7
(a liberally creative and adulterous piece that could be true)
…this wasn't the sacred deal we made, and I had trusted she would never break it.
Just last night my wife questioned my own motives when I suggested she explore a new exercise in which, given the scenario that she was a high-priced whore, she list all the men she would fuck for one thousand dollars. It took a couple moments before she announced that some clients would not be charged for her services such as my surgeon up in Michigan or the singer Van Morrison. But her theory for my suggesting these exercises was that it was my way to control her, to keep her from having an affair or possible temptations. I agreed with her that it was quite possible that I was doing just that. Sort of like having the family go to church and Sunday School on a regular basis so the guilt factor weighs heavily in the favor of the jailer. Or keeping your wife pregnant so she is too busy and worn out to think about having a good time with somebody other than her spouse. In my case it would be giving her so many opportunities to think openly and honestly about fucking somebody other than me that she wouldn't really need to actually go through with it. And yes, that is true I guess. But it did backfire on me quite some years ago, which I forgot to remind her of last night while she was questioning me.
At least twenty-five years ago I began initiating these conversations regarding her fucking a mutual friend (and who that was to be at the time we hadn't yet discovered) and the obsessive (on my part) thought of it got her so worked up that she came home one afternoon from working a summer teaching job to announce to me she wanted to fuck her new principal. She was letting me know as agreed upon, but the problem was she forgot the criteria that the fellow had to be a mutual friend and she only had that part half right. I determined in short order that he was no friend of mine when she admitted he was all in. Had she brought him home to meet me, or had we all three gone out for dinner, did a few other things together as well, enough to become more than mere acquaintances, then she may have had something worth pursuing. But the fact was my wife had gotten herself so hot and worked up over actually fucking this guy that she left out a couple of important steps in which for me to be comfortable with her actually going through with it. I was really angry over the whole affair but I did not blame her at all. I took full responsibility for putting the idea in her head, but I asked her to communicate with me next time, that is if there ever was one. I was eager to commiserate with her, to be an accomplice in a semi-sordid affair, or at least to consider anything she had in mind and that is why I encouraged her in these exercises. But she hadn't yet shared any of these possibly delicious thoughts with me. And to my knowledge there hadn't been any, so this engagement at our dinner table had, without a doubt, made time stop and floored me to no end.
But to be honest, things really hadn't been going that well between us for the last few months. I had had my accident which completely changed our lives and it seemed we had grown through it and actually had become closer because of it. But then she had her own accident while trying to save the dog. Our little puppy had gotten away from her as she was securing the security gate to our condo complex and she was afraid he would run into the busy street below the steps and get hit by a speeding car. She ran down the concrete steps and lunged for him only to have landed wrong resulting in the breaking of her pinkie finger (and who knows what else). Most people wouldn't consider the breaking of a pinkie finger to be of any great consequence but it is when you break the joint in it. We’ve been told it is an unforgiving break and one she still hasn't gotten over even after more than a year in recovery. She has been in extreme pain and has suffered immeasurably. The injury has affected her entire body. At times her entire right side feels as if it were bound in a straitjacket. There isn’t one tissue, muscle, or nerve in her body that can relax without the drugs these doctors prescribe. And drugs surely cannot be the answer. Her neurological system from time to time also goes haywire. The doctors had to have missed diagnosing something. This agonizing life is not what she had expected. Her years of swimming laps, eating healthy foods, and taking good care of her body and now this? There have been many threats of suicide throughout the process and there is no denying she has had a hard time of it. We have yet to figure out what exactly went wrong or what they might have missed. For years her pretty face and alluring body have defied the march of time, however the stress and concerns for not finding answers to this dilemma have affected her. There are days her angst shows and these awful feelings of torture cannot be ignored. When she isn’t preoccupied with housework or busy with the dog she constantly fusses and fidgets with that finger as well as her entire arm, shoulder, and stiff neck for extended parts of each day. It is very frustrating and it can be annoying to anyone paying close attention to her. The doctors tell her it’s all in her head. She begs for somebody to help her. It is heartbreaking to witness this suffering. My focus on her before the accident was constant with sexual fantasies, nude photographs, and some art films we made together. Life was interesting and we were entirely engaged in it. Other than that frustrating finger and the agony often present in her entire body there has been little else lately to talk about. If it weren't for the dog our lives would hardly be a life at all. I can see why she might have strayed given the constant stress and recovery we both have been through. But this wasn't the sacred deal we made, and I had trusted she would never break it.
Parts 1 through 7 of “Curling Story” can be found and read in chronological order beginning here.