February Sucks Reality

February sucks (reality)

As a great writer,

LT56linebacker

, once said, "I promise, no more "February Sucks"' stories-from me. Promise."

GeorgeAnderson

wrote just a brilliant story. I know I've mentioned this before but it actually made me hurt for Jim. My heart ached and I couldn't stop thinking about it.

How? Why, would Linda?..

And then I talked to my wife. And very quickly she drew me back to

reality

.

Which is the time I realized that I needed to write this piece. I wanted to hold off until MY version of George's story came out, as well as the sequel. Because on one level this is could ruin the whole thing for you. Being selfish, I wanted to wait until I had my run before shitting all over everything.

My point is, sometimes we get so caught up in reading all of the "Loving Wives" stories that we forget we're reading Fiction. We forget that things happen in these stories that just would NOT happen in real life. Like a wife walking off with a celebrity and thinking everything's going to be OK back at home. Yeah, no one thinks that. Not even the evil soulless bitches. In reality about 5% of the women on this planet, completely suck ass! Just selfish heartless cunts who have no room in their hearts for anyone but themselves. But the other 95%? They're just people. Most of them want to find someone to love and love them. But about 95% of the stories in the Loving Wives category are written about that shitty 5%. Which makes sense because it is WAY harder to write an erotic story about a woman that

only

fucks her husband.

Anyway, I think the two most important facts George presents in his piece are,

1: The conversation with the women at the convention and,

2: The tidbit about how most women who destroy their marriages because of an affair with a celebrity, never regret the affair.

Now, George took these two pieces of information and turned them into the most gorgeous piece of heartbreak I've ever read. And yes, I still hate his ending. Not the point, you pricks. The STORY is magnificent. I WISH I was a good enough writer to make people hurt. I mean, damn!

BUUUUUUT... Great writer or not, that doesn't mean he's right. And I'm sorry but in this case he's actually pretty far off the

Marc

......... Fuck you, I thought it was cute.

So let me take you through these two points and see if I can't clear our vision just a smidge.

The Conversation at the Convention

I have no doubt it happened exactly like George described it. I wasn't there and I don't know those

specific

people, but I know those people. I've been in that kind of conversation many times and it's easy to recognize them.

The cast of IMPORTANT characters:

The Alpha female.

She's one of those people that will tell you how badass she is. How she's the best at 'pick a topic.' No seriously, she's like a Real Life Troll. She'll claim to be the expert at whatever topic is the current buzz of the conversation. She'll

claim

that she can do whatever she wants. AND she

is

completely - full of shit. If Jocko walked up and asked her to dance, first words out of her mouth to her husband would be, "Is it ok if I dance with him, honey?"

The Everyman.

"You might leave with him tonight, but if I was your husband, you sure as hell wouldn't see me tomorrow."

Has anyone EVER seen anyone claim this guy was wrong? Cause I haven't. Every person who has ever read this story thinks the same thing, "no shit." Because this guy is saying what everyone thinks about Alpha's bullshit statement. Including the other women at that table.

And then you've got Beta bitch.

"

An event, you know, with a capital E?

"

Jesus, I hate these people.

Lord deliver me from the gutless peacemakers.

Making the peace IS an important skill. But it's not supposed to be used for mindless garbage. It's supposed to have a purpose. And there is no purpose in this conversation. Just her own discomfort over a stupid argument.

This bitch, she is the antithesis of me. She will SAY -

anything

- to avoid an argument. Whereas I love confrontation, Beta B cannot breathe around it. You notice she doesn't go active until Everyman makes his comment. Then suddenly she's spouting crap that no human being would believe! Pretty much just repackaging what Alpha said while trying to make it sound reasonable.

So, by this point you should be asking yourself, "How do I know Hayden knows what he's talking about?"

Well, we have a couple of clues in the conversation.

["Um, what would you tell your husband?" one of the guys asked hesitantly.]

["Um, why would I tell my husband?"]

...Uh... Why -

wouldn't

- you tell your husband? I mean you're about to explain how you love him but you're not gonna pass this up and blah blah blah. Soooo? Is it because you know that if he found out, he'd divorce your two timing slut ass? Yeah, I feel confident it's that, isn't it?

And second,

"You might leave with him tonight, but if I was your husband, you sure as hell wouldn't see me tomorrow."

AND - NO - ONE - DISPUTED - HIS - CLAIM. Not one woman said "bullshit." None of the men called bullshit on his statement. Oh sure, Beta Bitch tried to smooth things over but even she didn't claim he was wrong. And even BB got a bad reply after her whole "Capitol E" spiel.

["Well, that shows us married guys where we stand, doesn't it?" one guy muttered.]

That's not a vote of confidence in BB's crap.

In summation of this conversation, this is a bullshitting session between women. The same way we guys get together and claim to be big men. How we run our house and we never changed a diaper or whatever other crap we've come up with. And that's all these women were doing. The only thing I

WISH

had been asked was,

Everyman: "So if Shakira walked up to your husband and wanted to fuck him? You'd be OK with the 'Not gonna pass this up. See you tomorrow' answer from him?"

She'd say yes, but George would've seen her turn red before she forced it out.

Here's a conversation that has NEVER happened.

"Why is Jim divorcing Linda?"

"

Because she fucked Marc LaValliere.

"

"

Why would he do that!? It's Marc LaValliere!

"

And here's the one that ALWAYS happens.

"Why is Jim divorcing Linda?"

"

Because she fucked Marc LaValliere.

"

"Oh, no shit. What was she thinking?"

And

that

is reality.

Now for our final point. What would make a woman destroy her marriage by screwing a celebrity and not have any regrets about it?

Well I'll tell ya...

__________________________________________________________________

Jim

● It was blue. The dress.

● The ten of us met at the restaurant.

● Linda was the most attractive woman in the room, and I must have told her so a half dozen times.

● I touched her arm or her shoulder or her hand as often as I could find a reasonable excuse. She returned the favor and smiled into my eyes.

● We checked into our rooms before we headed over to the club.

● "We don't really have to spend very long at the club, do we?" she whispered to me as we walked.

● So I danced with the love of my life, with occasional breaks for hot wings and a drink.

● "

So is it time to leave yet?

" - "Right after you brought a fresh plate of wings?"

● Linda looked downward, and held my hand a little tighter.

● I

felt

Linda

gasp

as she dropped my hand as if it were a hot potato.

● Marc was good, far better than I was, and Linda was clearly enjoying herself.

● As Linda neared our table and our eyes met, her best smile faded to her second-best.

Linda...

That wasn't my second best smile, Jim. That wasn't my third, it wasn't my fourth. It wasn't even my

fifth

best smile. That was my "Trying not to be rude because we're in public," smile. That was my "It's dead," smile.

You want to tell everyone how perfect our lives were, until I fucked Marc? And hell, maybe it was.

For you

. But my life was a hell of neglect. You want to pretend how "in love" we were? If only I hadn't been struck by that evil slut-ray, Marc LaValliere and his magic dick? Oh, why couldn't we have chosen another bar?... Jim!? By that point in the night, it could have been the fucking - Bus - boy!

The first few years of our marriage were great. You know? And then it started to slack off. I'd try to spend time with you, try and get you to communicate with me. Try and get you to just

talk

to me. It just kept getting harder and harder until we had Emma. And then things got better... For a few months. And a couple of years later when we had Tommy, things were better, for only a few weeks.

I mean, you were great, if we had company or family over. And sometimes not even then. We'd have special moments, holidays, anniversaries, birthdays and so on. But once those were over you'd go back to being just you again. Come home, drink a beer, watch TV or surf the net. Like our lives were a fucking sitcom or something. While I'm your maid, your mother, your house cleaner, your roommate with benefits? On those occasions that you felt like it. And yeah, we'd have those special moments every once in a while. Moments that would boost my hope. Moments when you would actually tune in and be a part of my life and let me in to be a part of yours. As slim, shallow and tepid as it was.

The truth is, the last nine years have been a hell filled with neglect and disregard. Neglect... for the woman you once

swore

was the most important thing in your life!

I mean... God damn it! Even that night, Jim?! You held it together throughout dinner. But by the time we got to the bar? Yeah, we danced. Yeah, you held my hand. Yay, physical contact. He's touching me. Of course it was while you were talking to your friends, Dave, Phil and the others. It was while running to grab drinks and food. And while watching

THE GOD DAMNED GAME ON THE TV OVER THE MOTHERFUCKING BAR!!!!

In a matter of minutes, from the time we were seated, you put all of your attention on your friends. Though by this time I realized it could have been anyone. Anyone but me. Like when you asked, "

So is it time to leave yet?

"

"Right after you brought a fresh plate of wings?"

I didn't say that! That was Dave! Not that you noticed, because we stayed!

When Marc walked over to the table and I was looking down, I wasn't looking down because I thought he would never pick me. I couldn't have given a damn about Marc just then. I didn't care what he was going to do. I was looking down because you just asked me, "Shall we dance here, or upstairs?" And I'm thinking '

Am I calling an Uber and going home? Am I finally ditching this selfish ass? Like, right now? Am I finally done? Because I feel like I'm done."

So when Mark asked me if I wanted to dance? You "-

felt -

me -

gasp

?" No, Jim. You

heard

me give a sigh of relief. A sigh that said,

"

Hell - yes!" And later, when he implied he wanted to take me home? Absolutely! And I wonder where you got the idea that Dee said anything. Because I remember I just stood up and said I have to go to the restroom. Then I left that fucking table, because I was finished with you. You neglected me for years. And now you're upset about it? Heartbroken that I finally gave up after years of

begging

you to communicate with me?

Begging

you to be a part of my life?

Begging

you to let me be a part of your life?!

Fuck you, Jim. And

fuck

your broken heart.

Author's note:

Why would a woman ruin her marriage over an affair with a celebrity and not regret it?

Because the marriage was already dead.

Women have two columns,

Wants

and

Needs

.

Now, the "Wants" column has just a ton of checkboxes in it. Just every damned thing you can think of is in it. And you're gonna screw that one up. And it's OK, we all do. Yes, even Lesbians screw that one up.

But the "Needs" column? That's only got one checkbox, "Pay attention to me." And if you can keep that one checked? Then you're golden.

Alright, so please vote and comment.

P.S.

Since most of the trolls didn't read any of this. I have to end with a PSA for them at the very end. Because they might notice it from the Comments section before they blow me away with the killer knowledge of why they gave me a 1 star.

Ahem,

To the Tolls!!!

Listen up you little InCells. If you go and talk to a girl, your chances of her giving you pussy increases astronomically.

AND

if you actually listen to the words coming out of her mouth? Those chances quadruple! And that is how you get laid.

God help us all.

Hayden D. Linder