I was married once and for a very short time. I’m not sure what made me decide to get married. I hated every moment of it. I missed my solitude, and I hated meeting all the people that came with letting one single person into my life.
My brother-in-law was dating a dog. I’m sorry but the girl was painful to look at and she had the personality of a soggy wool blanket.
So, I tried to befriend her.
I wanted to champion her, actually. Yes, she was ugly, and she had no charm but I simply hated the way my sisters-in-law rolled their eyes when her back was turned. My wimp ass brother-in-law was too cowardly to dump her.
That’s when I was certain that everyone in the room hated me including my husband. I mean he smiled when I showed up in white and he seemed happy to put a ring on my hand but he seemed unhappy that I sympathized over the girl.
I excused myself during one family gathering and went into the bathroom and looked at my face. No, I wasn’t beautiful but I wasn’t ugly. My hair was done and my makeup wasn’t smudged. I heard laughter outside in the room where everyone was having fun without me.
They were a clique that’s all. I and the ugly girl had walked into a tiny little house where everyone knew each other and we were lumps next to the guys.
When I arrived back to the party, I looked at my husband who was talking to his best friend from high school who was now dating his ex-wife. I felt a little sick why hadn’t that bothered me before? The room began to swim. I excused myself for some air and wondered how many eyes rolled as I walked out into the tiny backyard. My skin began to crawl, I wondered what it would be like to grow old and live with a cat.
I walked home. When he came into the house he was shouting and yelling at me that everyone was looking for me; they thought I had been abducted.
“Did everyone think I was abducted by Martians?”
“Where were you hiding?”
“I want a divorce.”
I have two cats, Athena and Artemis. We live in a different town, with a big red maple in the front yard. I pay the local neighborhood boys to mow my lawn in the summer and shovel the walk in the winter. I plant inpatients in the shady areas around my little house and listen to the whispers coming from the sidewalk.
“She’s someone’s mistress.”
“She screened in her porch for her cats.”
“She may have loved once, you know like one of those old dame movie stars.”
“I hope she doesn’t die in that house, she’d be the type to haunt it. It’ll ruin the neighborhood.”
“Oh hush, she’ll hear you!”
“Do you think she’s an alien?”