Today I met a “couple”. The man is married to someone else. I am no stranger to infidelity. I’ve participated in clandestine affairs as the cheater and as the other woman. Mind you, it is ancient history from the time before I married my husband.
I happened to be at the married man’s vacation home. A photograph of him with his wife and little boy is displayed prominently on the wall. I wondered what his female guest thought of the picture. I wondered if she thought of his family as an inconvenience or if she imagined that she would someday be the little boy’s beloved stepmother, Daddy’s new wife.
I don’t think she is terrible. I think he is dishonest. If it were the other way around, I’d think she was dishonest. I looked at the wife in the photograph. She’s probably 10 years older than the female guest. Her eyebrows have begun to slip toward her eyelids, her hair isn’t as thick and shiny as it must have been when she was younger. I observed the female guest. Her honey blonde hair was in a long pony tail; nothing on her face sagged with age or weariness. I talked with her for a while. She told me how she met him. He’s her professor. She’ll graduate soon. While we talked, I recalled the wonder of youth and the unlimited opportunities available during the time before you acquire people. She was energetic in her enthusiasm. I liked her.
I wanted to say, “Honey, don’t waste your heart on him. He’s a renowned surgeon, enticingly European but entrenched. You aren’t entrenched yet. You are free. Wait for someone who matches you, someone who will be the other half of your pair.”
She was a nice girl.