Gut Rumbles

October 01, 2007


Originally published July 19, 2002

A strange thing happened this evening. My BC ex-wife showed up with my son at 6:00 and he had his suitcase with wheels loaded with the clothes he needs to spend the week with me. He tore into the house, gave me a hug and went straight to his room to crank up the Gameboy II. He left the suitcase in the middle of the living room.

The BC walked up to the door and asked for an "emergency phone number" so she could reach Quinton if she needed to speak to him while we were gone. I told her that I didn't have a number yet, but we would be at the Jekyll Inn from Monday night until Friday morning and that I would have Quinton call her EVERY NIGHT if that made her feel better. I was standing there with the door open and the 105 degree heat outside competing seriously with my air conditioning. I finally said, "Why don't you just come inside and sit down?"

She did, and we talked. She said, "I'm sure going to miss that sweet boy every day he's gone."

I said, "I miss him every day of my life. He's been gone a year now for me."

"Yeah, I know how hard that must be."

"I've noticed that it bothers you a lot."

"It does bother me. I'm sorry that things worked out they way they did."

I kept my mouth shut. I didn't say the obvious, which is "THINGS WORKED OUT THE WAY THEY DID BECAUSE YOU FUCKED AROUND WITH A DISEASED, UNEMPLOYED, DOPE-SMOKING ASSHOLE AND FLUSHED EVERYTHING WE ONCE HAD RIGHT DOWN THE TOILET, YOU BLOODLESS CUNT!" No, I didn't say that. She asked me for a cigarette and I gave her one. We talked about work, and we locked into an old, familiar pattern of both of us thinking scarily alike about how to deal with the latest problem on the horizon. The scene reminded me of what we once did every evening around the kitchen table after supper. It was eerie.

She's still an attractive woman, but she doesn't appear nearly as beautiful to me as she once did. I've seen the monster inside, and that changes a lot of my perceptions about her. She once was my partner, my lover and the best friend I had in the world. Not anymore.

But I can close my eyes right now and feel every nook and cranny of her body, smell every scent of her and recall the way she warmed her cold feet against my warm belly at night while making purring snores as she slept. I don't know if I'll EVER forget that. Hell, I still sleep on "my" side of the bed today.

When she left today, she paused at the door and said, "Thanks for inviting me in. It was nice to talk to you again." Then she hopped in her fancy sports car and went home to suck the unempolyed dope-smoker's cock.

Yeah, it was good for me, too.

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