She has seen me through good times and bad. She has overlooked wrong turns and poor
judgment. Many months have now passed
since I chose my date for the prom. I
looked passed the athletic physique of the cheerleading squad and turned my ear
away from the captain’s siren song. I
ignored the gentle curves and tempting advances made by the homecoming queen. In a sea of possibilities I chose the girl at
the back of the room. Quiet and
reserved, she sat there casting judgmental stares at the other
contestants. It seemed she questioned my
motives. After all, she had better
things to do. Chess club, band practice
. . . college entrance exams. With her
hair pulled back in a ponytail, she had little interest in making a scene. She didn’t want to be noticed and had no
intention of attending the dance. She
was classy and timeless. Self-confident,
though her exterior said otherwise. And
just like that, I asked her to be my date.
Reluctantly, she agreed. She was
young, but not too young. In her Junior
year perhaps. After that first date, we
fell in love. She has remained my low
maintenance companion and able taxi for my young.
She has blossomed from an awkward kid into a beautiful young
woman. We know each other better now,
and the honeymoon phase is over. She
knows my faults and I know hers, although I am surprised daily by the twists and
turns along the way. She is spry and
nimble, the perfect companion for long trips down winding vineyard byways. Then, with no warning at all, she becomes
unfaithful. Cheating on me with an ice
skate. The attributes that had made her
so gleefully agile and my automotive soul mate, lift her ass like a plastic
surgeon when the roadways get the slightest bit glossy. Her personality splits and I see a side I
have never seen before. Insecure,
questioning my every request. Swinging
wildly from one extreme to the next.
Attempting to end my life in a single bend, then apologizing profusely
at the next. What gives? Is the romance gone? How could she betray me like this? I have given her everything. I have bought her nice things. A symphony to fill the hole her prior suiter
had left behind, a personal assistant to make certain she is always on time and
never lost along the way.
And so it goes, with loves sweet sting. Our trust has been shattered. When she is not looking, I watch as other
more attractive options pass us by. I
turn my head to watch their shapely rear bumper and soft red taillights fade
into the distance. She pretends not to
notice, but we both know she does. So,
now we are forced to share our lives for the sake of the children. We agree to co-exist till they are grown and
no longer need us to transport them to and fro. The breakup will be difficult
and custody will be left to the courts. Reconciliation seems impossible and one day I
will trade her for a younger model . . . a Volkswagen maybe.
1 comments:
I also discovered that ballerinas are not ice skaters.
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