"CURLING STORY" part 5 of 7
(a liberally creative and adulterous piece that could be true)
I make no deals with anybody who might lord over me. I gave that up as a kid in grade school when I prayed to God that I'd be forever good if just for that one day He would ensure I'd get a nod or wink from the older Eva who slowly made her way toward me from the end of the school hall.
I kept waiting for an explanation to come from across the table but they were entirely focused on each other and seemed to have forgotten about me sitting there still looking stunned and wondering why I could not move. I was faced with the possibility that I did not know my wife anymore. It is feasible to think I never had. Our marriage deal had suddenly changed and here I was attempting to get used to it. It was clear she was fucking this guy sitting across from me and I would have to decide if I was OK with that. I did not think I was and I felt I needed to leave, which brings me to this moment which isn't exactly where I really wanted to be either. I left the table without a word. They hardly noticed me leaving. She certainly did not try to stop me and there wasn't any hint of any guilt or deceit or wrongdoing on either of their parts in this whole affair. And it is possible it is all me again. It is possible I have created this scenario that I must now suffer through. And suffer I will. There isn't anyone in the world I was more comfortable with or who wowed me as much as this woman had through all our difficult years together. I had never grown tired of fucking her and actually enjoyed it more and more each year. But lately, as I said, things have not been so very well with her. I am thinking she may need this attention given to her by somebody other than me in order to get past her injuries and move on with her life. She is so vain. She worries constantly about her beauty fading, the wrinkles, the body sagging here and there, concerns which never have meant a thing to me. I am always happy to have her under any condition. But not this one perhaps. Or maybe I am. It is confusing to me to have carried this fantasy for so long and see it being played out before me short of my design. It was probably my wanting to control. She is likely right in her reasoning. I would love to get my head around this new development. But I am not at all too keen on this Asian guy fucking my wife. I wasn't too happy about the Iranian lover either. But that was before we were married, even prior to us being an item. I ask myself what is the difference between somebody I approve of and somebody I do not? They are still both fucking her. And then former habits appear again due to my old alcoholic thinking, thoughts like maybe I should be glad somebody besides me is doing the dirty work. Thoughts such as she has been nothing short of a pain in my ass lately. Always complaining. So negative, and always second-guessing everything throughout our entire life together. I then carried on pathetically thinking that maybe this is a good thing. Maybe he will take her away and I can start over. And then I remember our old fights back when I drank too much and how I could be so tough and firm and then after the alcohol wore off I would be so full of remorse and then fear that I had gone too far in my ultimatums. In truth I am basically a chicken shit. Always have been. I put on a strong face and bluff my way through. But there is no bluffing myself anymore. I am sober and have been for many years. But old habits are hard to break.
I quit drinking when I was thirty-two. That is young for a drunk to give up his bottle. And that part, believe it or not, was easy. What was most difficult for me was relearning how to live. Not having a beer between my legs while driving was devastating for me. So unnatural. And for years I measured trips based on how many beers it would take to reach my destination. I rarely traveled further than two beers away from home, but working down in Bay City for example proved to be a four-beer drive to get home after working all day. There is no end to examining one’s life. Always something. Change is happening everywhere. So many choices and decisions to be made to alter the course of our lives. It is a wonder we survive.
Maybe I do prefer to live in a world of fantasy. Perhaps my other world is just too real and discomfiting. I still grudgingly participate in my daily reading of the Washington Post and often tune-in to the nightly news. I still take the garbage out, wash our dishes by hand while ignoring the new automatic dishwasher, I do my own laundry, run errands, and perform the occasional odd job around our new loft. I am hooked on good books, film, and fine art photographs. I am disciplined in the writing of my poems, screenplays, and the irregular essay or article depending on the genre. Sometimes I make things up or dream about them. I am interested in many points of view and even my own can oftentimes change. I do have beliefs, but not in the things in which most people choose to believe. I admit to being a bit superstitious, but not enough to anchor myself in myth. I am reasonable and find it totally absurd that people practice any type of religion. I make no deals with anybody who might lord over me. I gave that up as a kid in grade school when I prayed to God that I'd be forever good if just for that one day He would ensure I'd get a nod or wink from the older Eva who slowly made her way toward me from the end of the school hall. She never did.
Part 6 of Curling Story can be read here.
Parts 1 through 7 of “Curling Story” can be found and read in chronological order beginning here.