she trampled my heart like a rhino on a campfire
My Lovely Wife and I went to dinner on Friday at Mabel and Allie’s.
It was a pleasant evening. They fed us a wide variety of cheeses, thus ensuring my undying fealty. The meal consisted of a variety of Lesbian Lebanese (God! I gotta stop doing that!) delicacies. The conversation was stimulating. (Although I may have made too many submarine references. But really! Who doesn’t love saying “DIVE! DIVE! DIVE!” over and over again? [Looks around.] See? No one!)
But then it happened.
My Lovely Wife met the love of her life.
And it wasn’t me.
It seemed innocuous enough. I kept talking, oblivious to what was happening directly in front of me. But while I was yammering away, My Lovely Wife had snatched her heart back from me and had offered it to another.
The evening ended and we went home. And — bit by bit, moment by moment — I saw my marriage crumble before my very eyes.
Our conversations grew distant and stilted. Meals passed in a strained silence, broken only by my attempts to lighten the mood by singing a description of what I was eating. (Example: “Oatmeeeeeeal… you craaaaa-zy fibrous bastard, with your swinging BROOOOOWN-SUGAR TOPPING, into my belly, we will meet, and become oooooooooone…”)
When she wasn’t looking, I would see her staring off into space, eyes glistening. At night, I would lie awake for hours, tormented by the gulf between us.
It’s…
…
I’m sorry. It’s just so hard.
…
I’ll just get down to it.
She’s gone now. Off with her new lover. I hear they’ve put a down-payment on a condo. They’re talking about getting a dog.
They’re happy.
She’s happy.
…
Me?
I’m going through the motions. Life… damn. It’s so hard. I know it’ll get better. It has to get better. But for now…
It’s hard.
…
I… just have to get this off my chest.
Damn you, Mabel.
Damn you and your damned flour-less chocolate cake.
It stole her from me.
…
However, I am going out for coffee on Friday with your baked brie with sautéed onions. Fingers crossed!
February 13th, 2007 at 4:00 pm
At first I thought you couldn’t beat the simile in the title. Then the word mixup* had me rethinking that assumption. Then the foodie talk. Boy, the hits just keep a-comin’. Good luck with the Brie!
* Could be worse. A certain Lovely Wife I know once, in public, exclaimed that it “smelt like incest in here”. Since that day, she’s striken both incest and incense from her vocabulary.
February 13th, 2007 at 4:01 pm
Coffee breath, onion breath, and cheese breath?
Hmmm….I’ll have to get on this…so you can win her back.
February 13th, 2007 at 4:18 pm
There. Now you can save your marriage by Valentine’s Day.
Next time, just ask, okay?
February 13th, 2007 at 4:25 pm
You… are a very strange person. And yes I am sure that is why I keep hanging around here.
February 13th, 2007 at 5:59 pm
Sween,
I thought for sure this was going to end with Your Lovely Wife bringing home a new kitty and you making love with a cookie, but…..
it turned out to be even better than that.
Thanks for the laugh.
p.s. great game Saturday. “three cheers”!
until next time, moooohahaha.
brian
February 14th, 2007 at 9:34 am
Chocolate is a mean and cruel master. When she realizes you don’t make false promises such as “I love you!” while packing on the pounds along the hips, she’ll come running back to you! : )
February 14th, 2007 at 10:23 am
Mike: That’s it. I’m SO buying Your Lovely Wife some incest…
Mabel: Holy CRAP that’s complicated. I bow down to the master.
RJ: We aim to please. Or confuse. One or the other. We’re still deciding.
brian: “Making love with a cookie” you say?… hmmm… is peanut putter involved?
Zeus: Well, that or when she needs a new roll of toilet paper for the bathroom. I’m good for that. Usually.
February 14th, 2007 at 12:58 pm
OK, I just love to take things one step further.. and sween you inticed me.
PB and the J don’t make great lubes. on bicycle chains that is.
Sorry that’s just gross and unnecessary.
I wonder if there are life size ginger-people cookies out there on the intraweb somewhere. probly… there was a great doc. on CBC last night about peoples’ obsession with life like robot doles and the like.
Weeeeeard.
February 14th, 2007 at 2:06 pm
Great. I can’t eat peanut butter any more and now I can’t ride my bike any more either. Thanks. *shudder*
February 14th, 2007 at 5:36 pm
No prob. I do what I can where I can.