Just a Glimpse

First things that I'll say about this story are that this is my first attempt into the Loving Wives category. Second, this is not porn, there is NO sex in this story, zippo, none. There's also no dialogue, the first part of the first sentence says it all,

The thoughts going through my mind.

are what's in the story.

It's a story about infidelity, it's told all in his mind. Only from his view point. He's a very cerebral person, very strong in his beliefs. That's what this story is about, his beliefs about what marriage means to him. How those beliefs let him handle how he goes forward. Another caution is, this is not a BTB, nor is it a RAAC. Those two concepts are like one and ten on that scale. This story falls somewhere closer to four or five.

Hopefully Enjoy.

*****

The thoughts going through my mind were so irrelevant, disjointed. Such as the old cliche', a picture's worth a thousand words. So is just a glimpse, a snapshot in and of the mind. Art has always been a large part of my mind. So shoot me, I'm an artist. In images, it's sometimes the only way I can interpret sudden strong emotions. Like right now.

I remember a painting that I once saw. It was a very gentle, powerful painting. Those sound, at first, like two contrary terms. Gentle and powerful at the same time, but in the painting it worked. The gentle was the image of the old couple. Lets just say they were in the evening of their life. They're at that point of an almost laugh, both happy and smiling. Leaning their heads together sharing some small joy.

You could see the comfort they had in each other. No surprises there, they just fit together. They had fit for a lot of years. You didn't have to analyze the image or the feelings expressed in the painting. It was intuitive, it was just there, right in front. You could see the roll of years behind them. By the lines and the time on their faces. You could see the trials and joys of those years. There were more laugh lines then frowns.

The power in the painting came from a lot of those same things. The lines, wrinkles, joys and trials of those years. Were just scratches on the rock of them. Just on the surface of that rock, and it was that one rock of them. Not two boulders tight together, pressed by time and erosion into one whole. It was one rock, them, husband and wife.

Somewhere, at sometime, two hands had reached out to each other. Clasped and held, two souls had touched and never let go. More than that, the image is of two circles, rings, that overlap and entwined. Surrounded by a larger circle. The two entwined are the souls of husband and wife, the larger, is that soul made of them, from them. That rock of them that has joined to make generations.

They are someones Mother and Father, someones Grandma and Grandpa. Never Grandmother, no this was a woman who hugged, loved and taught how to bake cookies. Grandpa taught chores first, then fishing, and swimming in the creek. They forged through the rock of them, another link in the generations of time.

I guess in some ways I'm probably emoting a lot of my values and beliefs into my remembrances of this painting. I think, to some extent, we all will do that. Maybe everything we do in life is shaded by our own interpretations. Others may look at this same painting and think that it means something completely different. Right now some of my interpretations are hitting me right between the eyes. Or I should say, in my eyes.

A lot of those images I used to interpret that painting, are my ideals. My definitions of what marriage means, and should be. At least what mine should be to me. That quaint old fashion jointing of two into one. I guess my up bringing just hard wired that image into me.

People can interact with each other in innumerable ways. I can understand how some other values would work for other people. Intellectually, I can imagine how someone could look at sex, separate from any form of love or intimacy. Kind of like a contact sport. That opens up the options for a lot of different styles of marriage. Swinging or open marriages, polygamy. At least people call them marriages.

Emotionally maybe I'm stunted, but I can't see how you could get naked, crawl into bed, and climb that mountain of passion that is sex. Then say that it means nothing, for one thing I'd be insulted. Then you say that the person you just shared your most private self with. Is just like a baseball player on the other team. Maybe someone else can, but it's not in my world view.

In my world view, people who are in a marriage and view sex as a contact sport. Are missing a couple of major points. The first is in what their asking from their spouse. It doesn't matter if one is asking it from the other spouse, or if their both asking it from each other. A person has been described as being; mind, body and soul. Traditionally that's also whats been vowed to in marriage.

Mind, body, and soul, one of the three is tangible. The others are said to be intangible, or unseen, untouchable. When you take one leg from the triangle, the body out. Then make that part available to anyone. All your left with, as special to the marriage, is the intangible. This is my point, what your asking for from your spouse is divine blind faith. They have to believe in your lips moving and what the air coming out means. When you tell them that they're the only one you really love. We all know how easy it is to lie. Some people even do it compulsively.

I don't believe that two people can have sex and not care 'something' for each other. So maybe you care 2% for that person and 98% for your spouse...today. Tomorrow your pissed and it changed 30% lover and 70% spouse. Maybe your both really pissed and fighting about...whatever. 98% lover- 2% spouse. The problem becomes when you realize that maybe the love ratio, not just the caring, can change too, or grow, 49% lover, 51% spouse. Other than your lips moving and air blowing, how does your spouse know. Divine blind faith thats all they have left. If your sharing that tangible leg of the triangle with others.

Not giving the whole of you; mind, body, and soul. To your partner only.

The heart loves where it wills. Yes I really believe that. Can the heart love more than one. Yes I believe that too. You can love children, parents, friends in a lot of different ways. But in a marriage, in that greater soul circle, love becomes a certain type of special. Then it can only be shared in balance, one to one. If one looks out of the greater circle to see another. Or even inside the circle, as a triad, to see another. The greater circle is broken. Because that soul lets go to see another. Is as simple as that, looking from one person to another, you first have to look away from the first.

Of course all this looking away is metaphorical. I believe that either spouse can look at another person ascetically. Even to think, oh man their hot, I'd like to fuck them. The looking away from the marriage comes when they go over to meet Mr. or Ms. hotness. In the metaphorical sense, to turn and meet hotness, they must first turn away, and leave their partner.

Like that little child hiding under the sheets from the monsters in their closet. That child knows that if they stick their head out to look, the monster will get them. They're in mortal terror of what will happen if they look. They have the choice, to look or not. In a marriage it's the same, it comes down to that simple choice of, look or not. In that choice is the knowing of what it could do to that marriage. To look or not is a willing choice.

Like I said though, I interpret some emotions and understandings through images. Those snapshots in the mind. Those thousand word pictures. The one I'm looking at right now, is almost a classic. A fifties calender pin-up painting. Just different fashions, hairstyles, and cars.

Change the BMW for a Ford coupe, the tall dark and handsome's suit. From a crisp gray business, to a double breasted, brown silk suit, tie and hat, wingtip shoes. Add 50's style to the beautiful woman's hair and clothes, then they'd be identical. This snapshot image in my mind from this parking lot, to that pin-up calender painting.

The pose is what's classic, tall dark and handsome. Leaning back against the side of the car. The beautiful woman's calf of one leg cocked up. High heel resting on it's toe. She's leaning tight up against him, hips, thighs, pressed together. His arms are around her waist, her back is arched away from his body. Her hands are on his shoulders, elbows on his chest. But their foreheads are together touching. Gazing lovingly into each others eyes.

This image speaks to me like that painting of the old couple, it just says different things. There is no rock of solidarity, no permanence. No soul deep jointing. But there are similarities, the first is the intimacy. They are comfortable in that intimacy together, more than comfortable. It's also apparent that this intimacy is not the sharp, first blush of new. To put it bluntly they've fucked, more than once.

The second is the relaxed joy, they want to be together, and they're enjoying their...love. Well if it isn't love now, it's as close to the same thing as matters.

It's the intimacy and the emotion that's apparent and important. It's that look, that loving gaze, shining through. Nothings' more beautiful than a beautiful woman in love. I think that might be the best definition...'in love'. Some people make that distinction. They make a division between loving another person, and being 'in love'. That candy store, popcorn, puppy feeling of being 'in love'.

That's what I see now...that 'in love'. It's like that honeymoon feeling, that sharp bite of new desire. The excitement of being fresh and new. It's the image of a beautiful woman, a tall dark and handsome man, 'in love'. But it's not beautiful.

Because that beautiful woman is my wife.

Yes, I said my thoughts might be considered irrelevant. All this thinking about paintings and such. While my wife is in the arms of another man.

It really has only taken an instant, or maybe as much as a second. Surely less than five. Since that first glimpse. That first snapshot in my mind.

Grabbing that snapshot image in my mind, is the only way I can think. Around the cattle prod to my heart. The kick to my balls.

In the back of my mind, I'm amazed that I'm still standing. I am...just standing there. Thinking most men would jump up there and kick his ass. When I had that first glimpse, I could see them both in sharp focus. I recognized him, here in the parking lot of their work. It wasn't very hard. Yeah, work place romance. Such a sad tired cliche'.

Now though, I don't even see him. He's just a blurred shape at the side of my vision. She is what I see, sharp and in focus. In that, I realize that's what he is, irrelevant. He's like that rock in the small creek that splits it into two rivulets. How can you be mad at a rock in the stream bed. He really is irrelevant, he wasn't part of my life before, and he isn't now either. That's probably the best way to handle him. To show him his total irrelevance, he's less than something on the bottom of my shoe. Certainly not worth going to jail for...he's just not...relevant.

My wife...I think that every man, or woman, at some point in their marriage has thought...what if. Even if they never imagined that it was even remotely possible for their spouse to have an affair. They still had thoughts of what they would do...if they did. Everything from taking a gun and killing them both. To disappearing, never be found again. Even to thoughts of eating their own gun, or a bottle of pills. Plus a thousand other things, baseball bats to law suits.

Actually, law suit, doesn't sound too bad. They had to have been known about this affair at their office...hum. He's higher up the corporate ladder than she is. Maybe he'll get fired?

I know that I've thought about it...that 'what if' scenario. A lot of what I realized was, what really mattered was internal to myself. Who I am, what do I believe in, and the type of person I wanted to be. Those feelings and beliefs, governed the actions I felt that I could take...what if. That 'what if' that caused our marriage to fall.

Maybe I'm kind of an atypical husband, because even in my thoughts of...what if. Killing them, or beating them bloody. Never seriously entered my thoughts , either to him or to her, or in the wildest case of, her and her female lover. That possible lack of violent reaction has mostly to do, with my belief of what marriage is, and what I want mine to be.

I have a profound belief that marriages are not made in either a church or courthouse. Again, not in formal vows to a religion or a judge. Those are just public announcements of a fact that has already happened, and will continue to happen for years. Marriage is a garden that will grow. A garden that needs tending season after season, winter snows and summers heat.

My belief is that when those two hands reach out to each other, and those two souls touch and don't let go. Then they built that larger circle that surrounds them both, that greater soul.

Thats the true marriage.

That was part of what I realized in my thoughts of...what if. To make the marriage, it took just two hands and two souls, and the will to joint them. Like most things we treasure, it's easier to destroy than create. It takes less to break a marriage too. Just one hand, one hand to let go, one soul to step out of the greater circle. Then that circle shatters and the marriage is no more. I just didn't know mine had been broken until now.

It's just that simple, it is or it isn't. It's whole or it's...gone.

I believe part of what makes marriage special in all of humanity. Is this unique jointing. It can be expressed as simply, us against the world. That person who will always have your back, and you theirs. You will always support them and they too you. They're your best friend, your only lover, and hers...you. The rest of the world revolves around the two of you. It should be that inclusive, that all encompassing. Maybe I've just got on rose colored glasses. But that's the way I think it should be, or want it to be.

Even if children come, they're still not part of that whole of husband and wife. They're temporary, it is life's plan, that they will leave and start out on their own. The rock that is marriage should have stayed, enduring all the trials and joys.

My wife knows this, and I thought she felt the same. We've talked about it enough. When we were young it was in the cars, back seat or front. Later, over pillows or drinks, coffee cups and kitchen tables. We talked of how we wanted our lives to be, what was important to us. We always seem to sing the same song, at least I thought so.

That's part of what makes this both so surrealistic and so crippling. We talk, we've never had a problem communicating. But she has never said anything was wrong. Never said she wanted something different or more.

Last night we watched a romantic comedy on DVD. We laughed at the funny places, and I held her at the parts where she sniffled. Later we started making soft gentle love, until it started rolling down hill. Faster and faster until she screamed her joy to the ceiling, several times. She never said if we had a problem in the bedroom either. There wasn't from my point of view.

She just never said anything was wrong.

In remembering my thoughts of...what if. I realize again that it's irrelevant. That she never said anything was wrong, or we had a problem in the bedroom. Or a hundred other possible reasons. If it's my fault or hers, is irrelevant. It's broken and gone. I'm not married anymore. All that's left, is to make the public announcement. She just doesn't know that, yet.

I heard a crude statement that applies to some of my, what if, thinking.

"What, you just tripped and fell on his dick, in love. Bullshit".

It's true, in this path she's taken to tall dark and handsome. There was a point or a line, where she knew that what she was doing was wrong. As far as our marriage was concerned, it was wrong. Even if it was just in some small dark corner of her mind, she knew it was wrong.

She had the option, regardless of whose fault might have led to that point. To just say no, and step back. Or she could take that next step forward, knowing it was wrong. Knowing that step or the next could harm or even kill our marriage. She took that next step forward. Men are from Mars, women are from Venus, is irrelevant, that step was taken.

The hard ass view point is, that's when our marriage broke. Maybe, but each small shy smile, each finger touch, each hand caress, each kiss was another step. Each in it's own way was another lie, and another place to step back and say no. That lie, by omission, was that our marriage was as good as always. When in fact it had stopped and broken.

Each step led down that path, to this parking lot. With her lovingly in his arms. Me standing, watching the most important thing in my life die. She made willingly.

For that reason, when a judge, a friend, or family member. Asks if we could reconcile, mend the broken pieces back together. I'll have to say no, before she reached that point on the path to tall, dark and handsome. Somewhere, before that point, our marriage was as strong as it could possibly be...and it broke. I don't believe that there are many things in this world that are stronger after they've been broken, than before. No matter how beautiful of a house that can be rebuilt after a storm. It can't last with cracks in the foundation.

Maybe an every day coffee cup accidentally dropped into the sink. Can be glued back together and hold coffee. Grandmothers 200 year old, hand painted, egg shell porcelain tea cup, intentionally dropped. Can never be fixed to fulfill it's purpose. All that's left to do is sweep up the pieces and throw them out with the trash. I treasured my wife and marriage way more than Grandmother's tea cup. It's broken and in pieces too.

After it's been broken, anything else is just settling for less. Marriage should mean the most, not less.

In these last few seconds, since that first glimpse. I've been working my wedding ring off of my finger. In all my, 'what if', thinking. I know what I'm going to do. They're actions that I can do and still live with myself. Tomorrow, months or years from now. I do that for myself.

I don't want a big emotional blood bath. No guns at high noon, no baseball bats to the knees. No retribution, but there will be consequences. After all I'm human too, I hurt, and want to strike back. Those 'what if' actions are part and parcel, of my beliefs about what marriage truly is. It's those hands clasped or it isn't. If it's not together, it's gone. Let it die.

Start over from the next step, and leave the past behind...dead.

I knew that it wouldn't take her long. We've been deeply in love, those two souls together. For far too long. Just now, she's felt my presence, my gaze. Her head snaps to me, her eyes right on mine. Now, she knows...it's gone. I see her face drop to chalk white, her knees sag and quiver. The only thing thats holding her up is his arms around her waist.

Then her knees catch, then one heart beat, two heart beats, three, four before he realizes she pushing away from him. Trying to stand up, trying to get out of his arms, and he lets her go. I can feel my eyes start to fill, tears on my cheeks. My left hand opens and tilts, my wedding ring falls to the pavement. One bounce, two, three, and you can hear it ring on each bounce. Then it rolls under a car. My right hand opens and tilts. My cell phone drops to the pavement, it doesn't bounce.

I turn and walk away. I'm tall, several fast steps, two rows of cars up. Then a fast side step behind a van. Two cars over and I pass behind a pick-up with a topper. Four cars down, back with a left turn.. Two cars over and I'm at the front of his BMW. Watching her run out into the parking lot after me, with him trying to catch her. In her panic she doesn't think to look behind her, to where they left from.