I have made it a rule of my life to trust a man long after other people gave him up, but I don’t see how I can ever trust any human being again. -Ulysses S. Grant-
I found that quote while looking for some kind of writing prompt, not so much as an idea, but rather a way to formulate my thoughts as they seem to run amuk. Or is it amok?
See what I mean?
Anyways, I have been thinking a lot lately about trust.
And I think it’s the reason behind my choice to stay celibate, rather than running straight to sex with a new man for comfort and validation that I am still special and worthy, even though the Fox cheated on me with some other woman. That other woman is every bit as special and lovely as me, and he had no trouble replacing me.
That fact has been fucking with my mind.
And it brought about an emotion I have never experienced in regards to the fox’s wife…empathy.
The other night, the fox was venting about his wife and the way she treats him. She argues with him, she does not listen to what he says. She acts like she has similar interests but then she is emotionally absent when he tries to interact with her as an equal partner and friend. She nags him. She won’t answer direct questions and she cannot recall if she answered ‘yes’ or ‘no’ to any given query so he has to avoid yes and no questions.
It was exhausting just listening to how she treats him, and I have never, ever understood her horrible behavior and attitude towards him. Now, before I go further, this is NOT just him spinning tales and me hanging on his every word. NO, I have personally witnessed this bitch in action.
One day, she left him a whiny voice mail stating that she was going to kill herself. She sounded serious too, but there was something unsettling about the voice mail and I made the distraught fox play it at full volume again before I called her bluff, just to be impartial.
I could clearly hear this woman walking, driving and smoking a cigarette throughout her emotional tirade. Only it wasn’t emotional, it was FLAT. It sounded rehearsed, and I clearly heard her take one last drag and flick her cigarette butt before the phone call cut off abruptly. According to the time recorded on the voice mail, the fox said she should have been walking IN to her office for the day. And that is exactly what the nut was doing, and I knew that the first time I listened to the video. She was driving to work, getting out of her car in the parking lot, and calmly smoking a cigarette before she had to go into her office building for the day, all while professing to be ill enough to commit suicide at that VERY MOMENT. I SWEAR, I heard her pushing or opening a door before she flicked that cigarette, and I could visualize every move she was making.
No, lady. You are not serious about suicide. You were trying to get your husband’s attention for the entire day, and that was the best way you knew how to do that, because you don’t put out, you spend TOO much money and you’re no fucking fun. SO, THIS is what you have left. Emotional blackmail.
But, now I see myself reacting to the things the fox says with some of the same reactions she has, and it does not make me proud. It does however, make me somewhat aware of why she is so temperamental. She is hurt and betrayed because the fox cheated on HER, and this is how she reacts to her self hatred. I say ‘self’ hatred because she hates herself for being weak enough to still want him even after what he has done to her. She still wants him to be faithful and she knows he never has been, for she has caught him repeatedly. I have only caught him once, and am all too willing to forgive, so who am I to blame her?
Today the fox said he was going to a friend’s house for “bike night.” This is apparently where he gets together with an old friend and drinks beer and parties for the evening with other like minded bike enthusiasts.
I found myself immediately disbelieving him.
JUST LIKE SHE WOULD.
My first question to him was “and your wife is o.k. with this? ” because I knew in a trillion million years that as long as she is breathing this will NEVER be o.k. with her, because her husband is a serial cheater and cannot be trusted out of her line of vision. I know from experience that this is not o.k. with her because she has gone beyond “suspicious” to out and out combative over any absence of him on any given night of any given week.
I also know she is out of state visiting a friend…as I write this she is hundreds of miles away and he is “off leash.” He knows I am not stupid, but he also knows I have no way of knowing what he is doing, other than woman’s intuition.
So, I find myself imagining my fox with another woman in his arms. In my mind, he is touching her and feeling her silky hair between his fingers like he used to mine. In my mind, he is kissing and touching her like he loves her. In my mind, he loves her more than me. In my mind, she will always be there, ahead of me, taking what’s left of my soul every time she looks into my lover’s eyes.
Am I sad? Yes.
Did I cry? Yes.
Did I act jealous like the fox’s wife and accuse him of being with someone else tonight? Yes, I did.
I am more like her than I thought. We have shared pain. We both love a man that hurt us.
I don’t know what she’s bitching about. She will always have a place in his life, and he will be devoted to her in most every way until the day she dies, or he dies, whichever comes first. She gets the stuff that love is made of, like cuddling at night and nursing each other when the going gets rough. She gets to wake up in the morning and hear the birds outside the cottage that she helped pay for. She deserves to be treated well and she is. She does not desire sex anymore, so she can look the other way and accept that he truly loves her without the promise or lure of physical attention.
I am left with nothing but a tattoo and a memory.
I am left with nothing but the harsh knowledge that I wasn’t enough to fill the void within him. I was not a good candidate for him, because I do not make enough money to afford him the lifestyle he desires. He needs a financial partner more than he needs a sexual and emotional partner. He has chosen to stay with the security within his marriage, and so far, so have I.
So, I still desire a relationship with him. I just have to swallow my pride enough to accept the pecking order that comes along with that desirous decision.
I have to learn to be number three.
Tripods aren’t that stable. Three’s a crowd. And do you know what they call a car with three tires?
Disabled.
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