Image by Obsidian Planet
My Real Memoir
I’d done the right thing, right? Saying no to an affair with a blazing hot married woman had to be fairly high on the virtuosity scale. But I didn’t feel virtuous, I felt lonely. Ruby had been the first woman to make me forget about my ex-forever-love Kat. But then I’d pushed Ruby offstage. And once again I tried to drag Kat back onto it.
It was the last day of the year, seven months after our break-up. Surely she’d finished sowing her wild oats and assorted other grains, and was ready to come back to me. “No,” she said, “but I hope you have the best year ever, babe.”
It wasn’t like I was treading water. I’d fished for the meaning of life, and found nothing but quicksilver minnows. And then I’d moved. Twice. The first move had ended in disaster. The second in a windowless rent-free cave where I still resided. And finally, more happily, I’d gone back to college. Maybe a master’s degree would open the door to a different destiny.
But destiny was on holiday at the moment. So I called a dozen old friends. Most had changed their numbers. But one, Angie, answered immediately. She was an adorable fireplug of a Jewish girl I’d met in my first college acting class. I’d have asked her out back then, but she was married to a gangly “goy boy” name Tim.
I caught her up on the last seven years, arriving at Kat’s infidelity, and the subsequent break-up. “My heart’s still a little broken,” I said. And then Angie replied with her trademark irony, “I can top that.” After years of fertility treatments—just last week, she told me–she’d finally managed to give birth to a beautiful baby boy.
“Angie, that’s wonderful!”
“There’s more,” she went on. On Christmas Eve, her husband Tim had come to the hospital to see their baby. And to introduce her to the woman he was leaving her for. Angie described her as “a skinny shiksa with boobs instead of a brain.”
Her broken heart made mine look like a paper cut. All I could do was tell her that Tim was unworthy of ever even having been with a woman like her. “If there’s anything I can do…”
“There’s a party at my parent’s house tonight,” she replied, “a Happy New Year/Meet the Baby Party. I’m dreading being there alone, and seeing all their looks, you know? But maybe if you came…”
The moment I arrived, I took Angie’s hand, and held it the rest of the night. She introduced me to her whole mishpacha (family). Their faces lit up. Some winked. A few even said, “Well, good for you, Angie” and “Glad you’ve moved on!”
We let them think that.
And an hour later, alone in her father’s truck, we turned it into a reality. “If you want, we could…” Angie began. “I mean, I know I don’t look—”
“You look amazing,” I told her. And then we kissed. Sure, it was a rebound kiss, for both of us. But we were famished, and it fed us. And so, for the next few months Angie and I formed a two-member Broken Hearts Club. We met often…
To mend each other’s wounds.
My Real Memoir is a series. To read the next one, click here.
That´s life ….
What a raw and heartfelt story—beautifully told!
Raw
Did you and Angie keep in touch—if so can you tell us what happened to her? Thank you for these memoirs! 🙂 Fascinating!!
Sadly, no, Katie. We lost touch after a few years. And thank you.
You’re welcome! 🙂
Oh my about Tim, Wow! That takes some nerve! I really hope that Angie found someone to truly love her!
And yes, you did right in saying no, but often doing the right thing unfortunately doesn’t always feel right! It doesn’t take away our pain.
Thanks, Carolyn. I have no doubt Angie eventually found someone who truly loved her–and her little boy as well.
Good one, Mitch. Sometimes those two member clubs are the best ones.
I don’t know why it’s so interesting to know other people’s life stories-but it is! Captivating, Mitch. 🙂
Thank you, Nancy.
Obsession is really a curse, this has just become a common thing in today’s world
This sounds like the plot of a good romance, Mitch, complete with “perfect timing” of your phone call. The guy who becomes an instant hero, helping the jilted wife save face with her family. ♥️
It does indeed, Annie, but there was no Hallmark Channel ending. Still, I remember her with great fondness.
“If you want, we could…” I’m glad it was reciprocated. Brave woman. 😉
<3
hello antique works i been pray to make the corrections when the handwritings were suppose to be in all in 1 page & same pen written
lovely story, Mitch. Thanks for sharing. 💖💖💐
What a lovely story!
Thank you, Gudrun.
Lovely story!
Thank you, Chaya.
How can you mend a broken heart; fantastic song of the Bee’Gees
Few can tell a story like you, Mitch! ‘Love the creative bits like “sowing wild oats and assorted other grains” and “her broken heart made mine look like a paper cut.” This chapter of your life included much frustration and sadness, yet with these humorous touches you lighten the tone and keep it from sounding depressing. Well done!
Aw, bless you, dear friend!
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Thank you for a lovely story 💘
I’m so glad you enjoyed it, Sneska.
🙂