by The Urban Blabbermouth
It was a tempestuous relationship from the start. If you were to ask them, they would reply in unison, "It's complicated." He loved her and she loved him back just as much. He would have married her but she would not have been faithful. She needed constant male attention to thrive and he only needed hers.
She was easily distracted with the pleasures in front of her. If she was on the sofa chatting with him and a story appeared on the TV news, her attention would shift and she forgot what she was saying and drop out of the conversation. This distraction applied to men too with the result that she would flit from man to man often accepting the advances of the last man to approach her.
She would seek other men’s company. She found men were so interesting and so varied: fat, thin; short, tall; ugly, handsome; rich, poor; educated, stupid; childish, mature; funny, sad; hairless all over, hairy all over; broad shoulder narrow waist hard bodies, womanly breasts with a huge beer belly; and emotionally klutzy womanizers. Each man had some aspect about them that she wanted to experience but she did not want a long term relationship with any of them.
He was the stability of her life. He was the rock to her butterfly. He was the platform that allowed her to leap into her exciting adventures and all the while knowing that he was there in the background of her life should she need a home.
Unfortunately for him, her adventures included the company of other men. He was always jealous and was always picking fights with her to express his displeasure. She did not understand why he behaved badly but she knew that he was no harm to her so she always forgave him. The peculiar thing is that she was jealous of him too. Other women were attracted to him and he liked them although he had no romantic interest in them. She would have preferred to have him all to herself and she hated the other women. She expressed her jealousy as anger towards him.
One day, they had a falling out. As is customary with this type of event, it was over some trifle. They were out shopping and by his lights and of course not hers, she simply took too long to pick out a dress. They fought, remembering all the hurts and applied all the pain into clawing each other. True to their respective stubbornness and wish to dominate each other, they stopped speaking to each other and went home separately. It was that simple and that easy and the relationship was over.
As luck has it, they went to the same church, shared friends, and so remained in the same social circles. They kept running into each other. At first, it was a perfunctory greeting, “Hello or Hi” merely to acknowledge that they knew each other as one would acknowledge a stranger as a member of the human race. As the hurt and anger of heartbreak lessened, the greetings developed into a momentary conversation, ”How are you? Fine. Have you heard from …” Quite bland and non-committal. Things remained so for some months.
One day, he was in the elevator of her building visiting a friend -- she had their former apartment -- and she entered the elevator.
When he saw her, his heart sped up. She was as beautiful as ever. The need rose in him to touch her, to feel the warmth of her body and to feel the electricity that ran through his skin as he held her. He remembered how he loved the softness of her lips and how it felt so natural to hold her. His desire for her was so strong in him that, he, without thought for any consequence, opened his arms to her.
When she saw him, her breathing increased and she felt flushed and warm. She still thought him handsome and desirable despite their breakup. She felt happy and a bit light headed to see him but confused about her feelings for him in his presence. She saw his open arms and remembered how wonderful it was to feel his strong arms circling her, sharing their strength with her, and wrapping her in their protecting love. Without stopping to think, she stepped into his inviting arms and automatically reached up her lips to his and began to kiss him. Their kiss was warm, soft, long, and gentle. Months of pent up love poured out in their kiss.
But, nothing had changed. He loved her and she loved him back just as much. She still needed male attention to thrive and he still only needed hers. They knew it was dangerous but they could not stop their kissing.
In her bedroom, for they were in her apartment building, they made love. It was passionate and as unbridled as ever. He realized that this was his place in life and this was the limit of his place in her life. It would not get any better and they would return to their separate lives before the day was done. He could not imagine himself feeling this way about another woman. Sure he could spend his life with another woman and be happy but he would not ever again have the same strong love and irrational jealousy he was now feeling. He told her how much he loved her and she too confessed her love for him.
There was only one thing he could do. Still lying on top of her, he reached into the night table drawer and took out the .22 pistol he had once given her for protection.
She felt the cool metal against her head. She could see that his passion and jealousy had over taken him. She knew that he would pull the trigger. She still did not understand but she forgave him as she always would.