The Door Mat
By baddestmotherever on April 04, 2013
If March is the month that holds a lot of memories of my time with Richard, April is the month that reeks of Fartbuster. We had an April wedding. Five years after that, he moved out on April Fools Day. We signed the divorce papers on the day after what would have been our sixth wedding anniversary. Oh, and I found out all about his pregnant girlfriend in April, too. Another story for another day.
Isn’t it odd that one of my earliest fond memories of him, when we had only been dating a few months, was from a long drive–he read “The Wasteland” to me? For those of you who went to college in profitable fields, that’s the T.S. Eliot poem with the famous opening lines: “April is the cruelest month, breeding/Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing/Memory and desire, stirring/Dull roots with spring rain.” After that trip, he gave me his collection of Eliot poems, even crossed through his name on the inside of the front cover and wrote mine below it.
I’ve got a lot of stories about that marriage(The Engagement Fart), some of which I’ve never written down before. Like the time I found myself living out the biggest cliche in the book–the night he came home from “working late” with actual lipstick on his collar. I went to give him a hug and couldn’t NOT see it right there in front of my face. My whole body went cold and tingly. I hesitated for a few seconds–TRYING to summon up the strength to explain it away for him before he had to–when my sane brain took over and blurted out, “Is that LIPSTICK?” He hemmed and hawed then said it must have happened when he gave a secretary who was quitting a goodbye hug. I could have accepted that; I could have swallowed the lie. Instead I said, “That’s hard to believe.” He froze for a good 20 seconds then admitted that “it was just dinner.” OH, OK!!! Psshew! I thought it was something objectionable! It’s funny now to recall that my first thought on registering that it was lipstick was that it was a frosty pink color and I couldn’t get past the TACKY. Jesus, if you’re going to cheat at least pick someone who doesn’t wear Bonnie Belle Lipsmackers.
That was a long night. (read the rest of the story)
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