Moot Point Anita

Anita always has been and is the center of my life. I love everything about her.

When we were in college, most of my friends were telling me that I was out of her league, considering my previous girlfriends or the girls who were still after me.

They had no idea. I didn't need a tall, model-like, party girl. I didn't need someone whom everyone was after. I loved how we got along and how we loved each other in the warmest way. I never regretted my decision to live my life with her, the decision I made at that young age.

I still watch her sleep time to time. Her beautiful, gentle, round face, her button-like small nose, her beautiful lips. I wait for her to wake up to show me those beautiful, big green eyes and then to see her trying to hide her slightly buck teeth when she smiles. Can anyone have a smile which is that adorable?

Since we're at our forties now, I feel like I'm less attractive than the times she first fell in love with me. I don't know if she thinks of me the same way I do but I know she likes my selfless character and my shoulders which are still wide and strong.

We are living in a comfortable marriage. We don't try to pull each other's strings, we don't make each other change themselves and we don't look like we're bored of each other.

We have a good social life and lots of friends. Except that I recently started to feel like I had to make up excuses to ditch plans with some of my friends, since they are always ready to flirt with people when we go out.

I'm a man, it's not like I don't have such a desire for women. But I don't want to. I'm satisfied with my life and I don't want to make Anita unhappy in any way. Nothing's worth that.

But I wished that I hadn't blown my work buddies off, when they called me to join them tonight at a pub.

We are in an exhibition curated by one of Anita's friends, Sandra. She's also an artist herself. I never managed to get along with her. She acts too sophisticated; I'd say fake level sophisticated. All she talks about is helping the poor people, minorities and other humanitarian stuff. But all her life is within that high-society circle of rich and mostly show-off people. I think that she lacks the depth for such big words.

I'm sure those people open countless new doors to her own work as well. She's known as an artist and I'm no stranger to art. But I don't understand anything from her work. They all look like planned, rather than outcomes of some kind of a muse touch. She first tried sculpture, then some paintings on photographs but I still haven't seen anything that I would like to have at my house. Unfortunately, there are a few, as a gift from her.

While I try to pass the time there, trying different cocktails and trying to talk to people who looks like they are dragged here like me, she constantly introduces people to Anita.

Finally, Anita is standing by my side.

"How much longer?" I ask.

"Sorry, I didn't know it was going to last this long. One more hour and then..."

"Hey, Anita. I want you to meet Florian. He consults in most art magazines in Europe and he knows my work."

I don't want to meet anyone else, so I look at the horrible painting on my left. She doesn't even let me have two minutes of chat with my wife.

"Nice to meet you." I hear them talk. I'm too close, so it will be rude if I didn't say hello. I turn to them to see that guy kissing Anita's hand. What a cliche!

"The pleasure is all mine, Anita. I heard about you."

I wonder if the guy is talking like that to any woman he met, like a recording on a subway train or is this pleasure for my pretty, petite wife.

Anita giggles.

I reach my hand forward and say "Hi, I'm Sean. Nice to meet you."

He shakes my hand and says "Hi Sean" and returns to Anita.

I look at Sandra, she's smiling with an open mouth, looking at that guy and Anita. As if it is a big deal that she introduced them to each other. As if she managed to close a life changing business deal for us.

Anita is a publisher and she also does work for the art community but that's all. A small portion of her work is about those people.

I want to leave but he doesn't stop talking. "I did this in Italy, we saved that in Argentina..." Who cares?

Finally, I hold Anita's hand and remind her I'm still waiting to leave.

Her smile gets faint and she loses her concentration, trying to find the right moment to interrupt him. A few minutes - yes, he didn't give a breath break for a few minutes - later, she says "I can't describe how glad I am to meet you. We have to leave now; I hope you manage to stop them." Stop what? How long was I sleeping standing up?

On our way back, I say "Did you have fun tonight?"

"Wasn't bad, there were a few nice sculptures and paintings. And Sandra was very happy, so we did good."

I want to learn what was that interesting to talk that long. But I don't want to be a buzzkill, since I didn't make her uncomfortable all night. Why upset her? Why tell her that I was bored to death?

That same weekend, we're at a fund-raiser picnic. I didn't know we were invited there by Sandra. If I knew, I wouldn't go, at least not that peacefully.

Anyway, it's kind of fun. I camped near the barbeque and I can grab my meat when they are exactly medium-rare the way I like them. Cold beer, beautiful day. Anita is with me and...

"Anita come, you need to see this!" Yeah, Sandra. It's interesting how she is that annoying with that hot body.

Anita makes that "I'm sorry" face while being dragged away again.

Time to time I look around to see Anita. She's talking to people all the time. Don't think that I'm one of those guys who stand and sulk in parties. I am talking to everyone around me, I made the barbeque guy - who is a CEO somewhere - offer me to open up a restaurant together. So, I'm having fun.

But I want to have fun with Anita.

I can see her at the other side of the field, near the tree line. She's talking to some...

I didn't take a good look last time but is that the guy with a French name? The one we met at the exhibition? He's talking to Anita and making jokes. Anita looks like she's happy. Hey, she's laughing. I notice that I don't want her to laugh like that. Not when she's talking to other people.

When I'm thinking those, I see Sandra standing by me.

"Having fun?"

"I have no problems."

She sips from her drink, looking at where Anita is and says "She sure looks like she's having fun."

Why would she say that? This made me feel uncomfortable. This is an unfamiliar feeling. I don't dwell on it but I don't like how I feel.

I look at the same direction, but she's not there anymore. Other people are standing there. And I can't see her.

Half an hour later, she comes with Sandra. We can leave now, I guess.

I manage not to talk about how I feel on our way back home. Being close to her makes me feel Ok.

She had to go on a business trip for two days that week. She returned last night and as I'm watching her sleep, I feel that I still miss her. I wish she didn't have to go to work today. But I have to go too, so...

This last week was awful. One day I had to stay late and she almost came home late every day. We couldn't spend time together. Fuck.

And now Anita is waiting for my answer. I didn't see her all week and now this.

"Come on Sean. It's not nice for you to treat my friend like that. I never do that to you."

"But I'm honestly not in the mood."

She's standing in front of me, already dressed, waving the shoe she didn't put on yet to my face.

"I have to go. If you want, stay. I'll go myself."

That's a first. We never did that. Not like we did everything together but we never left one behind when that one didn't want to go to something we always did together.

I think for a few seconds, this can be an opportunity to get myself out of that Sandra organizations for good.

That uncomfortable feeling is here again because I'm almost sure that the bitch also called that sticky bastard. Who can't stop talking to my wife.

Looking at her beautiful nylon covered legs, her beautiful waist, her beautiful face, I don't want to send her there alone, not edible like that.

"Did you say Andrew and Ross will be there too?"

She nodded but she wasn't trying to convince me anymore.

"Yeah, Andrew is fun. Ok."

"I'm calling Sandra then." She looked too indifferent about my decision.

I can't believe we were going to that party that Sandra invited her.

Sandra means boring people who love talking about themselves. Like the sticky 'I wear different designer scarves to every occasion' snob. I don't understand why Anita isn't sick of such people.

Andrew is really fun but when Ross is around, he gets dull. Because Ross waits for him to make a mistake and hits him with it. It was fun 20 years ago but, how doesn't he understand Andrew doesn't like that anymore?

Yeah, we're in and I see boring, boring, snob, boring. They are all here. Half of them doesn't have my wealth but they walk around like royalty. Hey, is that the drink I had last year? The one on our vacation in Bonaire? The one they made from a cactus? Please let it be that thing.

While I am looking for the guy with the drinks, of course, Sandra came and said "You have to meet that woman." Is she trying to separate us? I'm standing with two glasses of that drink because Anita is on tour again. And it's not the same drink.

That's great. I'm having my third glass while Andrew has been talking to that guy for the last hour and Ross is not around. I'm standing by myself again, waiting for this to end. Is it this party or am I getting old? Nah, it's the party.

I see Anita. She's being dragged by Sandra, still being introduced to people.

But this cocktail tastes good. It's not the same drink but this is also good. I pick another one.

I finally see Ross. He's flirting with a 20 something girl. Come on man.

I see Anita.

And that guy, with a different scarf. Talking to Anita? Of course he is.

Sandra is standing there with that stupid smile of hers. The same scene, different setting. There is another guy there, holding Sandra's arm. Caballero style.

Ok, Sandra and the guy are watching him talk, he's looking at Anita while talking as if she's the only person in the room. That's not cool.

Sandra, let her go already. I can't spend a single minute with my wife. That's it, I will tell Anita that. This is an argument she can't get upset with.

Andrew comes, finally. He is telling me about what he wanted from that guy. I wasn't listening carefully but it was something about customs and imports. We gossip about Ross and how his girlfriend's age didn't change in the last 20 years.

I check around and can't see Anita.

I go to the restroom. I return and still can't find Anita. I go out on the balcony. Andrew follows me there. I borrow a cigar from an acquaintance. We smoke cigar while we listen to him, about how he ruined his previous business and how successful the next one will be. But I like his idea, my money is on his new business.

Andrew says it's bullshit when returning inside. I trust him with his instincts about business. I agree that it's bullshit.

We chat a little more and he says "It was fun." He has to leave.

I return to my place; Ross is flirting with two different 20 something girls at the same time.

Oh, there she is. She's still talking to that guy? Alone? Where's Sandra?

He's telling her something fun, probably. And, Anita can't stop laughing. Man, no one can laugh that adorable.

Wait, he stopped talking finally and he's watching her laugh. That cartoon character is looking at her as I do, thinking the same thing.

Anita is touching his shoulder and whispering something in his ear. There's no loud music, what's this about?

Where were they?

I walk to them. They are both laughing and I can see that Anita is blushing. Was he making erotic jokes to my wife? When did they get that friendly?

Sandra intercepts me on my way.

"Having fun Sean?" Is she trying to stall me or is she planning to tell me how Anita is happy there again?

"Yeah, whatever." I say, without stopping. I will end that disturbing conversation. Is she joking? She's my wife and she spent more time with that sponge bob since we came here. And that's the part I could witness.

He sees me walking towards them, says something to my wife, she looks at me, steps back and their faces get serious for a short second. Oh, she just remembered I was there and she just noticed I came by them. She stops laughing, smiles with her red cheeks to me.

He's smiling too but I don't like his expression.

"Do you remember Florian? You know Sean."

I smile with a face like trying to shit when I'm constipated. I know how to act civil but my inferior self is trying to get out.

"I guess so." I say, still acting cool.

"Of course I do, nice to see you again Sean." Not a bit sincere. But most of the people here are like that. I can't be sure if that's who he is or is he acting like that now.

Anita says "He's going to help me meet some important client candidates in the art network."

I look at him, without smiling.

I haven't beaten up anyone since college but I believe it's like riding a bicycle. Since I don't have anyone around to be ashamed of, why not?

Of course, I would never do that. I am Anita's nice husband and I don't want to embarrass her.

But still, why not?

"Time to go, I have work tomorrow." I say.

"I can give you a ride if you want to stay."

He is talking to my wife, making plans on my behalf, offering stuff as if he is a person.

When did he feel that confident?

He's not an individual for me, he lacks all the credentials according to my checklist. What he's been doing is disrespectful since the beginning. Does he have that smokey eye makeup? You must be kidding me!

Anita looks at me. Is she trying to figure out if I'm Ok with that offer?

Is that the feeling which all people have been talking about? Feeling jealous? Feeling that little resentment to the love of your life?

This is the first time I feel like saying "You may stay if you want", just to see how she will respond. Don't I trust her?

Where were they?

She must have seen my eyes and my tongue moving in my mouth with building anger.

She reaches to his arm and holds it "Not tonight, Flo. I have work too."

Flo?

I always trusted her. I was always comfortable with her. I never thought that she could be interested in someone else.

Even if I always thought that I was the luckiest guy on earth. Probably I always felt that she was the lucky one, deep inside. That was probably because of my social value or my 'sexo-parity' when we met and my friends' comments about our relationship back then.

But I let them all wear off. I wanted to make her feel comfortable too. I always thought that I was giving up my superpowers for the woman I loved. And she deserved it. What if she isn't seeing it like that anymore?

Am I a superman running behind Louise Lane while she's being picked up by a douchebag with a convertible? Why am I feeling that inferior now?

But I know her, she wouldn't do anything like that to me. I never thought or felt like that before. But tonight was so disturbing. I don't want to feel like that again.

On our way back home, I finally talk about my trouble.

"What's going on with that talking scarf?"

"Flo? What do you mean? What's happening to you?"

"Flo? Tonight, I'm having trouble recognizing you. This is the first time you made me feel like that."

She's not answering. She's acting as if I insulted her. This is not the first time I've seen that but it is not possible for her to be feeling like that, not tonight.

Shall I say something? I must be careful. If she's really upset, I may regret it. But I can't sleep like that, I have to talk before we reach home. Otherwise, she will go to bed and she won't talk.

"I told you that I missed you and you didn't spend a minute with me where you dragged me to."

"I didn't drag you there, I told you I could go by myself!"

"Anyone. Anyone who didn't know who we were would think that he was your husband, not me."

I know that was a pathetic thing to say but I have to make her talk. I'm not saying I want to make her confess to anything, I hope there isn't anything like that. But if there is or if there is a problem, I have to know.

If anyone ever felt like that before, he would know it's not something you would want to live with.

But she's not talking. She doesn't make a comment or get angry with me.

We're home and she's in bed.

It's so funny that I feel like I have no control in my life as of now.

I can't make my wife talk to me. I can't make my wife show sympathy to my worries. I know if she goes on like that, I won't be able to stop her from going to that Sandra bitch's parties or exhibitions and I also know that I can't be there anymore. Otherwise, I will start acting rude and probably lose Anita for good, even if there is no problem by now.

I can't sleep and it's already morning. She finds me in the living room, looking out of the window.

She doesn't talk, she makes coffee, drinks it and leaves. I'm angry at her. I won't drink her coffee. I pour down her coffee into the sink and make my own coffee.

I slept at the office that day and I returned home early. It's 10:00 PM already and she's not back yet.

If she doesn't care about making me feel like that or damage our marriage, I won't care too. I thought that I was being too hasty about this but then I convinced myself. No person would let the one they love feel that way. Right or wrong. You talk. You argue. You do not shut down.

I call one of my hustler friends, one I have been avoiding for the last two years and ask him if he's available. He says that he's married now and he has plans with his wife.

What the fuck? Did he wait for me to have trouble in my love life?

I called another and he was out of town. I gave up and left, to drink by myself.

I am sitting at the bar and minding my own business, thinking about my situation. If she's into someone, nothing I do will change that. I can't make her jealous, I can't fight her to make her love me again.

There are probably wise words about this situation, I remember hearing one which was about some condition when you regret pitying someone in despair. I'm not saying that she was in despair when she met me but giving up my powers - as Superman did in that movie - for her - I don't remember if he did that for Louis Lane - felt like I made her a favor. Probably many people experienced that.

This is the first time I'm thinking that I made a sacrifice settling for a woman who had little chance to find someone like me. And I sincerely started to believe that she was done with me.

I don't argue that it is possible for anyone to have a change of heart. It is sad, it may not be fair but it is for humans. I'm going to take part in those statistics, I'll be one of those people you hear or read about.

Yes, she can fall out of love with me. But without letting me know? Without even letting me suspect?

Did she fall out of love when she met that guy? Is it possible? Is she having an affair?

If I can learn that she is, there's only one path. I will leave her and pity myself for wasting my life for that. But I will survive.

But I have to learn. I can't leave her out of suspicion. How will I learn if she won't talk to me?

I just noticed the girl sitting next to me. Wow, she's gorgeous. Why is she looking at me?

"Are you Ok?"

"I guess, why did you ask?"

"You have tears in your eyes."

I look at her, trying to find words. I feel too bad.

It's been two hours and I guess I'm right about my suspicion. She agrees with me. She's very beautiful and kind. But I don't want to do anything with her. Not now.