A Few Dead Worms

This story is loosely based upon real events. Names and places have been changed to protect the guilty.

It was the mid-80s and I had just divorced my husband. He is a car salesman with very little drive to succeed and, though we always had a nice car in our driveway, all he could manage was to earn enough for us to barely get by. We lived in a small three-bedroom, one-bath home on the blue-collar side of town. After I filed, he moved out. That was six months before our marriage officially ended. A part of me was sad when the divorce was finalized, but another part of me was glad to move on to the next chapters of my life.

Loneliness during this time wasn't a problem because I had already been sleeping with my lover a couple of times a week for several years prior to my divorce. I loved him and wanted to spend the rest of my life with him because I could see a lot of potential in him. As I often told him, "I love you, I want you, and I need you," and he would lovingly respond in kind. The problem was, however, he was still attached. As a matter of fact, he was married to one of my friends. He and she had two children, and he didn't seem to be making any serious moves toward divorcing her. The longer our affair went on, the more skeptical I became that it was ever going to happen. So, when the letter from an old friend arrived, my disappointing life was immediately given a shot in the arm. I was so surprised to see his name on the envelope that I ran into the house and ripped it open.

My name is Lorrie, by the way, and the letter was from my high school sweetheart. As I read his letter, I was stunned to learn that Davey, a guy I had dumped before I left for college, had now become a doctor! I had heard a rumor to that effect, but until now I had not truly believed it. When he learned of my divorce, he had asked my cousin for my address, as he explained in his letter. I was euphoric after I read all that he had written about himself, and I read his letter several times to make certain I digested the meaning of every word and every syllable therein.

I had broken up with Davey after high school because, at the time, I saw him going nowhere and I didn't think that he was willing to work hard enough to keep me happy. At that time I felt that I could definitely do better. With that in mind, you may be asking yourself, "So how did she end up with a used car salesman?" Because I slept with him and I felt that he had to make an honest woman of me by marrying me. You've heard the phrase, "You break it – you buy it." Well, he was my first lover and he broke it, so he had to buy it. Excuse me ... let's get back to Davey.

When he couldn't decide what else to do, Davey had joined the Army after high school. It turned out to be a good thing since he finally got his act together and determined to make something of himself. However, before he joined the Army, he was so angry with me that he sent me a final letter while I was at college. I was excited to receive his letter but, after I opened it, I was shocked and angered by its contents. Inside was a folded piece of paper containing several dead worms. They were symbolic ... Davey's way of defining the end to our relationship. After I cooled down a bit, I decided that I would dispose of the worms symbolically. So, I took them outside and buried them to symbolize burying my relationship with Davey. That was the last time I heard from him until now, almost twenty years later.

In his latest letter, he went into detail about his current life. He seemingly was living the good life on one of the Florida Keys while I was stuck in cold northeastern Iowa raising two kids alone and freezing my butt off six months of the year. His life sounded very good to me, very good indeed! He was still single (had never been married), had his own sailboat, loved snorkeling, and he had a successful practice. Additionally, one small thing stood out in his letter and that was how he signed off at the end. He simply wrote, "Enjoy!" I don't know why it touched me. It seems silly now, but it made an impression back then.

I became excited at the prospect of renewing our relationship, if that could ever be, so I immediately sat down and responded to his letter, bringing him up to date on my life and telling him how glad I was to hear from him. I came to realize that I could still have a thing for Davey. After all, he seemed to be successful, and he had money and status. Who wouldn't jump at a chance to be with a guy like that. We corresponded once in awhile and even talked on the telephone during the next few months.

When my lover found out about Davey he was very angry with me. Even though I continued my relationship with him, I also stayed in contact with Davey. I hid it as best I could, and Davey and I didn't contact each other often, but my life with my lover became very tumultuous and we were beginning to argue constantly. I was torn between my feelings for him and those reawakened feelings I had for Davey, but by now Davey was winning and he wasn't even sleeping with me.

At that point in our five-year relationship, my lover and I had both gone back to college to earn our MA degrees. Because of all that was on my plate, I was living a very stressful life. My lover finally promised to get a divorce as soon as he finished grad school and got a job. That all happened about eighteen months later, after he graduated and became Director of a private business college. True to his word, he filed for divorce and moved to an apartment close to his school. We shopped for what he needed and got him all set up in his living quarters. At last we were both now free to be together. But then there was still the matter of Davey.

In the summer of 1998, my twentieth high school reunion was scheduled be held at the local bowling alley in my hometown. I heard from Davey that he was going to be there and I began to make plans to be there, too. However, I knew my lover was going to be a problem. How could I go to a reunion and not take the man I had been planning to marry? There seemed to be only one logical option ... I had to break up with him at least temporarily. But what would be my reason? Other than the fact that I was irked that he wouldn't move in with me, things had been going so well between us since his divorce that I couldn't truly justify any reason that came to mind. So, I just started making life miserable for both of us. After a couple of weeks of this, I told him I was going to the reunion by myself and I tried to make it clear that I didn't want him there. I didn't even contact him the day I left town. I just left.

The day before our class reunion, I drove to my folks' home in northern Iowa. After I got settled in my room, I called Davey's home and we agreed to meet. He didn't have a car so I drove to his parents' home to pick him up. His parents lived in a farmhouse in the country that was quite far removed from other houses, since the farms were very large in that area. Normally, I didn't like driving my car on gravel roads but it didn't make any difference that night. I was in another world and about to renew a relationship that I had assumed was dead.

I parked in the driveway and nervously made my way to the door. I knocked and stepped back. When he opened the door and I saw him for the first time in 20 years, I was awestruck. He had turned out to be as gorgeous as he was smart, and that's saying something. He invited me in, hugged me when he greeted me, and asked me to have a seat. We sat together as we talked with his folks and his twin sister for a while.

Around 9:00 PM, he and I decided to go to a little remotely located restaurant that was a favorite of the locals. It was in an unusual setting for a restaurant, but it was a quaint little place with lots of atmosphere and privacy. To me it was the perfect place for a new romance to begin. As far as I was concerned, it was the Top of the Mark. Davey ordered for us, and over dinner we shared our life stories with one another as we enjoyed getting reacquainted over several glasses of wine. I was unbelievably excited and it was all I could do to contain my joy. All I wanted to do was touch him. He was everything I had imagined and hoped for. I had to keep telling myself that after twenty years he was really with me again, and I knew at that point that whatever he wanted he was going to get.

Too soon it was time for the restaurant to close. He paid the check, thanked them for the service and we walked arm in arm to the car. We decided that we should drive around a bit before heading home. That was okay by me because I certainly wasn't ready for the night to end. I may have been 38 years old, but I wasn't dead by any definition thereof.

We finally ended up back at his place and I shut off the car's lights as we drove into the driveway. I parked under a large tree beside the house and we continued our conversation. After what seemed to be an eternity, it finally happened. He kissed me. My head was throbbing, my heart was racing, and my body was responding to him unashamedly. I was ready for anything he had in mind, and I wanted it to happen now.

I could go into the details of all that followed but suffice it to say this: All my expectations and desires were met. In that little driveway outside his folks' farmhouse, in my little Pontiac Sunbird, we had sex until the early morning hours. It all started with him releasing his sex, then gently putting his hand behind my head and pulling my face into his lap. Shortly thereafter we removed the necessary clothing to make unobstructed love over and over again and again. He stayed within me for what seemed to be forever, and I was still drunk with desire when we finally started to clean ourselves and restore our clothing. I had never felt this way with anyone at anytime in my life and I was almost in despair for it to continue.

Then something happened that I never expected. He said, "I've waited 20 years for that." He didn't say, "I've waited 20 years for you," he said, "...for that!" At that point I didn't say anything. I was still too high from all the sex, emotions and feelings to care about semantics.

I left before the sun came up and went home to go to bed. It was difficult to sleep even though I was more tired than I felt I had ever been. I knew that I only had two nights with him, so I was determined to cherish every waking moment with him, sleep or no sleep. I guess I was afraid that if I slept I would miss out.

When I finally climbed from my bed on Saturday, I lied to my curious parents when they asked why I was out so late. I told them that we had partied with friends until the wee hours of the morning, so they never knew that I was alone with Davey all that time.

That afternoon I went to a planned get-together with some of the girls in my class. I didn't really want to be there, but we had a good time as we laughed, talked and reestablished some connections that had been lost over the years. Finally, it was time to go home and get ready for the reunion that was to begin at 6:00 PM at the bowling alley.

I didn't have to pick up Davey because his twin sister had also come back for the reunion, so she brought him to the bowling alley. When I arrived, there were several couples already present and mingling with one another. I looked around trying to catch Davey's eye but he seemed more interested in being with the group he was with. I didn't want to appear to be pushy so I ignored the snub and was getting into the reunion thing when I saw something that horrified me.

Little did I know that my lover had not taken me seriously and was still planning to come to be with me. I was standing in the middle of the room when I looked up and saw him coming through the front doors toward me with a big smile on his face. This was a crisis! I knew he could read my mind like no one else I'd ever known and I knew that if he stayed he would figure it all out. I froze with panic. I did not want him there and I immediately produced the dirtiest look I could muster. I glared at him with a look of hatred and anger, but I was also feeling shame, embarrassment and fear at the same time. I had to rid myself of him with finality so I could be with Davey.

As he approached me I said, "Just what do you think you're doing here? I told you we were through and that I didn't want you here."

He responded, "Sorry, but I didn't understand that to be the case. Do you want me to leave, even though I drove 125 miles to be with you?"

"Yes, I want you to leave. Get out of here! I don't want you here," I said as nastily as I could.

He suddenly got that a-light-just-turned-on look in his eyes and he asked, "Is Davey here?"

I didn't want to answer, but I finally said through clenched teeth, "Yes, he is! Now leave."

Before he turned to walk away he said, "I still love you."

I was so perplexed that I wanted to scream, "Don't say that!" However, I was too flustered to respond. I just stood there and watched him leave the building.

After he walked out the door, it took me a while to get back into the swing of things. I had to clear the air with my friends about the scene they had just witnessed, but everyone soon forgot about the incident and continued the party until about 1:00 AM.

As we were closing down the reunion and leaving the bowling alley, some of the couples wanted to go to another bar outside town to continue drinking and partying. I was not in favor of it since all I wanted to do was to be with Davey ... alone! However, I sucked it up (you know what I mean) and went along because I didn't want to upset him. It was, after all, a rare opportunity for him to be with his old friends, too, and I was willing to hang on for dear life until we had to part once again.

When we all said our final goodbyes and left the bar, Davey and I got into my car and drove to the farm again. This night was a repeat of the first night, but with a little more desperation on my part. For the next three hours we kissed, touched, and struggled with one another to experience all that we possibly could. He was not particularly gentle this night. At times he would grab a handful of my hair and control my head's movements as I made love to him. It was painful but I went along with any and everything he demanded of me until we could do no more.

At about 5:00 AM Sunday morning we ended our time together and I reluctantly drove back to my home. Before parting, Davey and I promised that we would stay in touch. I thought about that a lot on the way home, hoping that his promise would turn out to be something more than an insincere comment. For some inexplicable reason I had a fleeting visualization of dead worms, but I quickly flushed it from my mind and tried to focus on the possible meaning of the time we had shared.

Everyone at my parents' house went to church Sunday morning except me. I was dead to the world, almost too dead to hear the telephone ringing around 11:30 AM. Thinking it must be Davey calling to say a final goodbye, I resurrected myself from the living dead and answered the phone. To my dismay it was my lover. I was so disappointed that I again told him we were finished, not because I truly believed that we were but because I knew I couldn't face him now that I had done all that I had done with Davey. Guilt was eating at me already. My greed and lust had driven me to do what I did and I felt like a little child must feel when he steals something to which he has no right. I couldn't face him or talk to him, so I did the only thing I could do ... I hung up on him and then left the phone off the hook and went back to bed.

That was about the last time I heard from Davey. He flew to Chicago that Sunday afternoon and left me behind to face what I had to face alone. I had faced many tough situations before, so this was just one more.

Even after all that had happened, within a couple of weeks after I returned home my lover and I were back together again. On the afternoon after we had been together on our first date in weeks, he asked me if I had sex with Davey. I didn't feel like lying so I told him the truth. I knew that I might as well because, as I said, he could read me like a book and I knew he would know intuitively that it had happened even if I tried to lie to him. So, instead of telling him about it in sketchy terms, I told him the whole story about where, when, and how many times (to the best of my recollection). I even told him what Davey was like, and what he did and didn't do that stood out in my mind. I told him as much as I thought he could stand. I told him that I wanted to be brutally honest with him so we could put it all behind us and get on with whatever relationship we were going to have, without any secrets. Down deep inside though I really wanted to make him hurt as much as I was hurting. Shortly after that, my lover and I went to my pastor for counseling. When he learned of all that I had said after my affair with Davey, he told me very pointedly that I obviously wanted to hurt my lover, not simply to confess my affair. I could not argue with him. I realized that he was right.

What I didn't realize, however, was that, even though my lover and I did get back together for another year and a half, my two nights with Davey were finally the beginning of the ending. He moved in with me and that didn't work out. We made love more often and with more excitement, we traveled with my two sons when we had the time, he took me to meet his family, and he bought me expensive gifts and presents like he had never done before, but we fought more and more, too.

One of the fights happened during sex when I repeated the words, "I love you, I want you, and I need you." His callous response was, "Ditto." I pushed him off me and ended the sex right there. But then, could I truly blame him for his lack of sensitivity after all I'd put him through?

It was during this time that my lover found out that Davey had been engaged all along. He was scheduled to marry a woman living in Chicago, which he did within months after he had been with me. In fact, when Davey left town after the reunion, he flew directly to Chicago to be with her. He told me he was flying there to visit a friend but I didn't know it was his fiancée. How my lover found out I'll never know, but he called me one night to tell me the "good" news about Davey's impending wedding. I knew he was just rubbing it in and he achieved what he wanted to achieve. I was crushed. Suddenly those dead worms seemed to be the sum value of all the relationships I had with men up this point, and I began to reflect on my history.

I had destroyed my own family because I didn't want to be married to a man who could not satisfy my need for financial security and status; I had wasted nine years on a relationship that I consciously tried to destroy time and again; I was willing to take part in destroying another family just to get what I wanted; I had spent months planning a rendezvous with a man who had been waiting 20 years to screw me and leave me; and now I was left with a man who tells me he loves me but doesn't trust me. It became clear to me that the dead worms weren't that big a deal by comparison to my other life experiences. But life went on.

Shortly before my lover of nine years and I finally parted, I met another man in church. I was amazed when I first saw him because he looked so much like the husband of a friend of mine. His wife was divorcing him because of some grievance she had against him. Rumor had it that he allegedly was guilty of some form of sexual aggressiveness toward her during their marriage. I heard the rumors but I didn't care. Even though his divorce was not final, I began to see him on the sly and we were soon sleeping together. It wasn't long before my lover of nine years found out about us, but by this point I was no longer concerned about him. I saw some real potential in my new lover and I wasn't about to let another rich opportunity pass me by ... not if I could help it. So I put it out there and my new lover took the bait.