Wednesday, February 15, 2012
today. The wife.
I was coming up through our shopping centre's carpark and I saw their car. As I was travelling up the travelator, lo and behold, she was coming down, with their eldest boy. We looked at each other, I glanced away, and looked back, and she did the same thing. Just your usual 'look at people without really looking at them' thing. I tried to keep my face relaxed and blank, but I looked at hers for some facial change, a signal, of recognition, of... I dont know, just something to make me acknowledge her, or follow her back down and say her name. And tell her.
I did indeed go back down and in to the car park. And I weaved my way through some cars and came out a little past her car, because my car was parked past hers. By this time she had finished putting the things in the boot and her son buckled in, and as I walked, I purposely glanced over to her, and she looked at me over the top of the car as she got in. But that was it.
I drove to the exit, and couldve ended up behind her car to put the ticket through the boom gate, but I let another car go in front of me.
Theres that perpetual debate inside me. If it were me, I would want to know. That doesnt mean she would want to know. And what are my reasons for telling her? Honestly, its not to bust them up, or break down their family, or because I hope he'll turn to me. In fact, no matter how anonymously I could do it, he would know in someway it was me, and Id of broken the promise to him that I would never tell her. Quite ironic really; Im sure when they were married they spoke the usual vows of truth and fidelity. And yes I dont want him hating me, but rather be a pleasant memory. And whats the worst thing that could happen if she never finds out? He is the one who has to live with it the remainder of his life. He could do it again with someone else (to her), because I was not his first time, but she could in fact benefit from him forever trying to make amends, by continuing to be the hard working attentitive husband and father.
I just dont know.
I was coming up through our shopping centre's carpark and I saw their car. As I was travelling up the travelator, lo and behold, she was coming down, with their eldest boy. We looked at each other, I glanced away, and looked back, and she did the same thing. Just your usual 'look at people without really looking at them' thing. I tried to keep my face relaxed and blank, but I looked at hers for some facial change, a signal, of recognition, of... I dont know, just something to make me acknowledge her, or follow her back down and say her name. And tell her.
I did indeed go back down and in to the car park. And I weaved my way through some cars and came out a little past her car, because my car was parked past hers. By this time she had finished putting the things in the boot and her son buckled in, and as I walked, I purposely glanced over to her, and she looked at me over the top of the car as she got in. But that was it.
I drove to the exit, and couldve ended up behind her car to put the ticket through the boom gate, but I let another car go in front of me.
Theres that perpetual debate inside me. If it were me, I would want to know. That doesnt mean she would want to know. And what are my reasons for telling her? Honestly, its not to bust them up, or break down their family, or because I hope he'll turn to me. In fact, no matter how anonymously I could do it, he would know in someway it was me, and Id of broken the promise to him that I would never tell her. Quite ironic really; Im sure when they were married they spoke the usual vows of truth and fidelity. And yes I dont want him hating me, but rather be a pleasant memory. And whats the worst thing that could happen if she never finds out? He is the one who has to live with it the remainder of his life. He could do it again with someone else (to her), because I was not his first time, but she could in fact benefit from him forever trying to make amends, by continuing to be the hard working attentitive husband and father.
I just dont know.
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