OK, the girls went back to school.
Shhhhhh . . . can you hear the quiet?
It is so awesome. It’s not even like quiet, it’s like an emptiness.
So fucking awesome.
I am giddy with emptiness.
Giddy emptiness is not the ideal place in which to sit when you are hoping to entertain with your words.
Hold on . . . let me think for a moment.
Shut up.
I am thinking.
Giddy emptiness.
One time? A very long time ago.
Mark and I are hanging out with some friends. A lovely outdoor patio at a favorite restaurant. There’s a band playing Cat Stevens and Neil Young songs. It’s early evening and it’s one of those perfect warm nights when I just can’t believe that this is my life . . . my husband, my friends, some music, a few beers. The warm air on my skin, the dusky colors of the early evening sky. There is laughing and talking and singing . . . It’s perfect.
Don’t you love those moments when you realize . . . in that very moment . . . that you are in the middle of a perfect moment?
So fucking awesome.
Of course that moment always passes.
Into the next.
The evening darkens and cools, the band packs up, the laughing and talking get louder.
We order another round of drinks.
And I find myself talking to a friend. A man I have known a while, and to whom I am attracted in that, “How cool is it that we are both happily married and so we don’t have to actually figure out what this flirty thing is between us? We can just have this flirty thing, because there is absolutely no chance of it going anywhere.”
Happy sighs at that excellent memory.
Except his wife is not here this evening. And we are both drinking.
And something is different. I am not so lost that I am unaware that things have changed between us. There is an energy coursing through our conversation that has never been there before. Our words are playful and witty, and there is no physical contact, but I am aware that our words? Are closing a gap between us. And that the physical contact that has not been made? Is being planned.
I am aware of these things, but I turn away from that knowledge. I am having so much fun. I feel attractive and desired and sexy as hell.
I am all giddy, and to sustain that giddy? I empty my mind onto the patio floor beside me.
I am giddy emptiness.
It feels as though choices are being made, but I don’t recall having made them.
And this moment? This moment that has followed that earlier perfect moment?
It too feels perfect.
Sigh.
We linger long into the evening. Long enough for some of us to have sobered up a bit and for others of us to get completely fucked up. I am among the former. The man to whom I have been talking is so drunk now? That he is openly announcing his adoration of me, proclaiming to the table that if we weren’t both married? We would be together.
Everyone laughs and smiles and agrees . . . we are two sides of the same coin, this man and I! If we weren’t both happily married? We would be amazing!
I can hardly breathe . . . the words are thick and meaningful in the air.
The evening is coming to a close. I am sad but also relieved. The ending of this moment has been taken out of my hands.
And then, unexpectedly, it is handed back to me.
Somehow? It has been decided that this man with whom I have ventured too far this evening?
He is too drunk to drive home.
And so I am to venture farther with this man. I am to drive him home. In his car.
And Mark will follow in a few minutes and pick me up at this man’s house.
I do not know how this plan is made.
I only know that I am giddy.
And I empty my brain of what I know, of what I sense, of what I see.
And in this state of giddy emptiness?
I drive.
So . . . There was the moment that was perfect.
And then there was the moment that felt perfect.
And now there is the moment that comes next.
It’s an ugly moment.
That begins with a hand slid across and up my thigh. Insistent.
And in that split second? As I struggle to shift the car into third and try to fend off his fingers? My brain is filled with all that is about to be lost here. With all that I have placed at risk this evening. With how incredibly stupid I have been.
And his hand is insistent. And my words are being ignored.
And so as I finally get the car into third, I swing right from there up into his face, smacking the bridge of his nose hard with the back of my forearm.
And then the car is filled with angry words and bitter accusations and curses. Complaints of promises made and then not kept. Hateful angry cruel words.
And I am silent.
And I drive.
It’s a short drive.
Whatever was between us?
Has changed yet again.
And the moments keep piling up.
Accumulating.
In my life with Mark.
And this morning? Together here in this quiet empty house?
I am giddy.
Giddy emptiness of a more thoughtful kind.
A perfect moment.
With Mark.
Happy sighs for your giddy emptiness today. Happy, happy, happy.
And with Mark, too. That giddy emptiness is better when the right person is in it with you.
Thanks, you.
The space and quiet I have today? In which to think and reflect and gather my thoughts?
Beyond awesome.
And everything is always better with Mark here with me.
Always.
Happy sighs.
I loved this post. Your description of the empty giddiness of flirting with an unattainable man is something that every married woman has experienced. The ugly moment of the line being crossed. I literally felt sick for you. Your posts always surprise me in the best way.
Thanks, you.
For the love.
For the sickness.
And for the surprise.
Thank you.
Eloquent and insightful as always, my friend.
And good for you and your forearm! Just saying.
Enjoy your empty giddiness in today’s moments. You’ve earned them this summer!
Mark didn’t know about the forearm part of the story.
At the time? I left that out.
And then later? It seemed pointless.
And then today?
I remembered.
So I have mentioned it.
Ugh. I hate those moments that go all awry like that. And they can’t be un-awried very easily either.
I think this is why drinking has not been my chosen form of intoxication. There have been too many times that things have gone from Giddy to Awry. Way too many times.
This moment?
It was a long time ago.
A lesson learned.
I have not been in this place since then.
Nor do I plan to be.
In the future.
I figured as much – about it being long ago, but I had meant that *he* got out of line from being stupid drunk.
It’s one thing to flirt, I think most people do that, but to get to the point where he thought it was ok to do what he did? And then not stop when you said no? I have seen things like this too many times from people. People who get drunk and then just get stupid, in one way or another.
I have been in the place you described yourself…& honestly? It scared the crap out of me.
Yes, it scared the crap out of me as well.
But in the end?
A gift . . . seriously.
Because that recognition of how easily a life together can be risked? Or how short the distance is from here to there? Of how important my life with Mark is, and how little I am willing to endanger that life?
Those were amazing realizations.
That have lingered.
And strengthened me.
I didn’t know that you had known Nigel that long…
Snort!
Hee hee!
Nigel?
Mandie is onto us.
Sorry about your nose, babe.
Snort!
Is it bad that I had the same thought? LoL
I am giggling hysterically.
Plus also?
Nigel and I?
We don’t flirt.
Not even.
You people are crazy.
Hee hee!
I am shocked–shocked–to think that people believe we flirt together.
How ridiculous.
By the way, I believe this is your bra. It was behind my sofa.
Shocked!
Snort!
Look elsewhere for the owner of that bra, babe.
You know you are all slutty.
Think hard.
Very hard.
Who else could it have been, if not me?
Oops, my bad. It was mine.
Executive transvestite.
I suspected as much.
Slutty you.
I like to feel pretty.
Is that a crime?
Not in my book.
I like you pretty.
I hope the squirrels haven’t gotten into your lipstick.
Snort!
Stupid lipstick-wearing squirrels.
Thank God I don’t flirt.
Because… because… umm…
Okay, even I couldn’t keep a straight face on that one.
Snort!
You always make me laugh.
Every time.
We must never drink together.
Hee hee!
How about huffing spray paint?
Is that doable?
That?
Sounds horrid.
And messy.
Besides, I want you to be completely sober when I force you to fuck up your life.
Snort!
Kidding.
But also?
Snort!
I am perfectly capable of fucking up my life without any help on your part, thank you very much.
It would just be more fun that way.
So then we are agreed.
Have you seen my handbasket?
It seats two.
Direct nonstop to Hell.
And it has cupholders.
Wheeeeeee!!!!!
Wow- this hit home. I cannot recall a specific incident, but I know I have been there. Feeling attractive. Knowing someone is flirting with me, even though my husband is right there. It’s a powerful feeling. Until it goes sour. I’m sad that your had to go though that. Or maybe it was a blessing in disguise, if there is such a thing. I am not comfortable with that saying.
I mentioned in response to an earlier comment that this experience, while ugly?
Was a gift.
A blessing, as you say.
Being a grown-up is difficult.
One heartbeat to the next.
That is how fast things can go from fine to fucked up.
Things are not accompanied by foreshadowing.
They are not accompanied by tense soundtracks that communicate impending doom.
They seldom happen in slow motion.
And they seldom allow do-overs.
Yes . . . one heartbeat to the next.
Coupled with a turning of the head and an ignoring of the accelerated heartbeats.
And I am not about the do-over.
As I have mentioned before.
I’m still stuck on “the girls went back to school.”
I am experiencing this giddy emptiness as well, and I am all kinds of excited about being home alone all day.
All. Kinds. Of. Excited.
Or as you say? So fucking awesome.
And next year?
Next year?
I will be totally and completely beyond excited when they go off to college and my nest is empty!
Will I cry like a baby when that day actually comes?
You betcha!
But I am ready.
Today?
Was awesome.
So fucking awesome.
I love the girls more than I can say.
But I am glad to finally have some time to myself.
Seriously.
I hear you.
When my husband and I got married, I became an instant mom to nine kids.
I am so looking forward to having him all to myself … and myself all to myself–if you know what I mean … and I think you do!
Yes.
I so do.
Wait.
Did you say nine kids?
Yikes!
Technically? Only six of the nine were still living at home when we got married.
But still.
Flirting is such a fine tightrope to walk. Such an exhilarating feeling when you’re walking it but far to easy to crash off of. Glad that your lesson ended in a way much easier than mine did. ::sigh::
Oh and the Nigel thought? I had it too. Hehe.
Sigh is right . . . what happened?
And people?
Nigel is not real.
I made him up.
Duh.
Let’s just say I fell off the tightrope. Hard. ::sigh::
Awwww . . . I’m sorry.
::sigh::
I learned so much and Joel and I are closer than ever. It ended up being a good thing.
But at the time? Ouch!
I’m glad it all worked out.
But OUCH?
Ouch is never fun.
Actually, the M. Night Shyamalan twist here?
Kris is not real.
I made her up.
I am just that full of rocket sauce.
You’re full of something.
And because I created you?
I can just refer to the recipe.
Let’s see . . . oh yes!
You’re full of shit.
I KNEW IT!
Snort!
Well played, young woman, well played.
Incorrect, however.
I am in fact at this moment full of Doritos and cocaine.
But good try there.
You?
Have no idea how well I can play.
No fucking idea.
Happy sighs.
best after-school snack everrr!
Crazy woman.
school awesome!!! frances drove me crazy today howling and screeching in the supermarket. then peeing in her room on the carpet…ugh. she is so sassy and bossy! olive is sleepy and won’t nap or be held, only happy when she is having snacks or staring into my eyes.
Hee hee!
I remember those days.
Too well.
School?
It’s awesome.
Kris, you are all sorts of magic voodoo shit with the way you can conjure up memories in me. Memories I pushed way the hell aside years upon years ago.
But aside from that…so happy for you and your giddy emptiness!!
Memories are weird . . . I hadn’t thought of this man in a very long time.
And then I spoke to someone else, whose voice took me back.
But today’s giddy emptiness?
That was lovely.
Thank you!
You were wise to drive him home
He may have fucked up a friendship
but he could have fucked up so much more.
And what you have with Mark?
It may be giddy, but it’s far from empty.
And I have nothing clever and witty to say tonight…
but I did say fucked twice..now three times…which is some sort of a record for me.
Rene
If three is your record, we’ve got to get you out more. Kris get to pouring and I’ll get out the swear manual.
I am already on the pouring.
Tequila shots all round.
Although if we drink more than three?
There will be sex.
I’m just letting you know.
I am a huge lightweight.
Thanks, you.
And yes . . . you are right.
And Mark? He is lovely and filled with everything I want.
Seriously.
My giddy emptiness today?
Was just of the childless variety.
And that?
Was fucking lovely.
let’s just skip today’s proclamation of adoration, understanding and OH ME TOO and move straight on to OF COURSE YOU DRIVE A STANDARD TRANSMISSION.
which, frankly, only strengthens my already ridiculous love for you.
Yes, pretty much?
I am perfect.
Hee hee!
wonder twins power, activate!
form of A CAR WITH MANUAL TRANSMISSION!
Form of . . . chocolate ice cream!
What?
I’m dessert hungry.
The are the best. I miss my VW right now.
And the easy slide up to fifth when the turbo kicks in.
Minivans just don’t feel like that, for all their other useful attributes.
I should have known you could drive stick.
Sigh.
Motherhood brings many lovely things.
Automatic transmission in a minivan?
One of the less lovely.
Sigh.
I’ve been in a similar situation, and that feeling when you know it’s about to cross the line is horrible and just wrenches your stomach. And things are never the same. And that’s a good thing!
Is it okay that I’m TOTALLY jealous of your quiet house? My oldest isn’t going to kindergarden for at least another 2 years. Sigh.
Yes, that stepping back?
Even if you have already stepped too far?
Is a valuable thing.
And I LOVE that you are jealous.
Quiet kicks ass.
I’m sure quiet kicks ass, but I wouldn’t know because I don’t remember what quiet sounds like!
Hang in there.
Quiet will come.
I promise.