I’m not even sure I’m going to see that Colin Farrell wanna-be again.” “What happened?” “Walked in on him and the bartender in the bathroom last night at Lotus. Usually, that wouldn’t bother me, but the bartender had a mullet. Can you imagine, a mullet in 2012? So sad, Travis obviously has tragically bad taste.
Later, when I heard that he had cheated on me, I couldn't believe it. My housemate told me that Carlos had been bothering some girl down at the store. Her father was furious and came by with two pit bulls, threatening to take Carlos apart. Carlos denied it, so I went and spoke to the girl. There, behind the cash register was a fifteen year old girl.
So many events and moments that seemed insignificant add up. I remember how for the last Valentine´s Day, N gave flowers but no card. In restaurants, he looked off into the middle distance while my hand would creep across the table to hold his. He would always let go first. I realize I can´t remember his last spontaneous gesture of affection.
I think: I would like to take N back to a story right now, like a rake. I would say, "Oh, this rake is uneven. Do you have any where the tines go straight across?" I would like to do a straight exchange. But there are things that cannot be returned. Errant husbands are one of them. Wives are not. Wives can be exchanged; I have always known this.
He should in humility have asked her why it was that he was naturally a cuckold, why two women of different temperaments and characters had been inspired to have lovers at his expense. He should be telling her, with the warmth of her body warming his, that his second wife had confessed to greater sexual pleasure when she remembered that she was deceiving him.
Any way I slice reality it comes out poorly, and I feel an urge to not exist, something I have never felt before; and now here it comes with conviction, almost panic. I mentally bless and exonerate anyone who has kicked a chair out from beneath her or swallowed opium in large chunks. My mind has met their environment, here in the void. I understand perfectly.
You can see it as you walk through the street: people who have never recovered. You can see it on their face, in their posturing. It needn’t be that way. We really are our brothers’ and sisters’ keepers … we really are obliged to put out our hand to someone who is in that state of shock or trauma because it could be us, just as easily.
I am never forget the day I first meet the great Lobachevsky.In one word he told me secret of success in mathematics:Plagiarize!Plagiarize!Let no one else's work evade your eyes!Remember why the good Lord made your eyes!So don't shade your eyes,But plagiarize, plagiarize, plagiarize -Only be sure always to call it please 'research'."[Lobachevsky]
Pop stars AREN'T cool. Cheating on your husband or your wife isn't cool. Having no modesty with your body and no self-respect is NOT cool. It doesn't matter how pretty someone's voice is, or if they SAY they are Christian, God calls us to modesty and faithfulness, so we need to be careful to not idolize anyone that goes way off of what God wants.
I´m just not sending out the right vibe lately. Perhaps the fact that I wear stained sweatpants and free T-shirts is holding me back. I just can´t seem to get back into the intelligent-slut-for-hire outfits that lure men; even shoes with laces evade me. Plus my hair is Fran Lebowitz-esque. I think my eyes are getting closer together. I don´t know.
Why had he done it? Why couldn't it just not have happened? Why didn't they have time-travel, why couldn't he go back and stop it happening? Ships that could circumnavigate the galaxy in a few years, and count every cell in your body from light-years off, but he wasn't able to go back one miserable day and alter one tiny, stupid, idiotic, shameful decision...
I tried to keep myself away from him by using con words like "fidelity" and "adultery", by telling myself that he would interfere with my work, that I had him I'd be too happy to write. I tried to tell myself I was hurting Bennett, hurting myself, making a spectacle of myself. I was. But nothing helped. I was possessed. The minute he walked into a room and smiled at me, I was a goner.
Nobody got me out," Nellie replied. "They just let me go. They think I'm a deranged Jonah Wizard fan. Apparently, the hotel's full of them. A couple of idiots actually jumped off the front balcony. Can you picture that?""In Technicolor," Amy said bitterly."That low-down KGB reject!" Dan fumed. "I can't believe she cheated me–right when I was in the middle of cheating her!
I sensed he may have occasionally strayed in some of his past relationships. It was something I felt but ignored, a rent in the fabric of an otherwise splendid garment I thought I could mend. I thought I could live with it—I thought, yes and I admit it, that I would be different. That at the very least, middle age and children would slow him down; however, they seemed to accelerate his pace.
It requires a genuine willingness to be transparent and vulnerable. It demands courage and commitment to plummet into those depths that she would rather turn a blind eye to. Yet once seen, the seeing and owning of that quality or energy as it lives in her, can change everything in a split second… At very least, it begins unraveling the pattern, and with the intention set and sustained, in time, it will unravel.
