Falling out of Love

This little story came about as I was driving with my kids and this song came on the radio… and I thought what if she were really falling out of love.   

They say that when you are dying that time slows down and your life flashes in front of your eyes…

I am not sure about that, because right now I am falling to what I think is my death, but so far I can only think about the last 24 hours.   I have to say it is quite disappointing too, because the last 24 hours were not the best hours of my life.

24 hours ago, I was in New York. My friend, Maura, made me the best Shrimp Linguine you could make in a tiny kitchen.  We stayed up late talking about our boyfriends, or rather my boyfriend, since Maura always seems to go on first dates but they never lead to any 2nd dates.

As I told her, things were going great with Brad, my current boyfriend, and we had just moved into a new high rise condo in Seattle.  He is an up and coming lawyer, who has dreams of being the next great politician.  I could see myself as a politician’s wife.  I am a teacher.  What politician would not want to use the “my wife is a teacher” card when campaigning, right?  Anyhow, life was good.  I even told Maura that I could see an engagement ring in my future.  I went to bed on her sofa, dreaming of the life I hoped I would have and Brad was a huge part of that life.  I saw 2.5 kids.  The .5 would be our dog, although I still was not able to imagine what the dog would look like.  I think I may have been thinking a Golden Retriever or maybe even a smaller dog like a maybe a terrier like Dorothy’s in The Wizard of Oz.  I guess I am getting a bit off topic though.

Anyway, this morning I got up and went to the airport.  I have to admit that even though it was great seeing my best friend for the weekend, I was ready to get back home to see Brad.  This was the first time I went away without him.  I have only been with him for a year, but when he is not around I just don’t feel like myself anymore.  It is sad, but true.

The plane trip was pretty non-eventful.  Which was a blessing, since I hate turbulence and I have always thought that I would die in a fiery plane crash someday.  I have no real reason to believe that is how I would die, except for a gut feeling.  Something tells me my gut was only partially correct.

I arrived back at the Sea-Tac airport around 3 pm.  Brad usually worked until 6 or 7 at night, so as I drove home I came up with some pretty wonderful ideas of how I was going to welcome him home.  I was thinking maybe making something fun for dinner.  I am not much of a cook, but I was thinking I could scour through the few cookbooks I have and find something   that may be kind of sexy rather than comforting.  Of course, I also knew there was a good possibility I would call and get Chinese delivered.

As the taxi, let me out in front of our building and I lugged my suitcase into the lobby… something did not feel right.  Margaret, the concierge, greeted me with a smile, but there was something else in her eyes.  Apprehension?  Worry?  Ah, my mind was playing tricks on me.   I asked her how her day had been going and whether the mail had gotten here yet.  She replied that it had and that Brad had picked up the package that had arrived.  I have to admit that I was a bit disappointed that Brad was already home, but then the thought occurred to me that maybe he was up there waiting for me.

The ride to the 6th floor seemed to take forever.  All I wanted was to jump on him and tell him how much I missed him.  Who cares if I did not have time to shower and make dinner, maybe he already planned a nice dinner to welcome me home! When I opened the door, the apartment was eerily quiet.  Brad was not in the living room watching TV.  I could hear some faint music coming from the bedroom and assumed that he must be taking a shower or getting dressed.

Unfortunately, when I opened the door I saw that Brad was indeed not dressed.  He was not dressed and also he was with our neighbor, Candace, who also was not dressed.  I think I may have let out a scream, because suddenly they both were looking at me.  Candace smirked, but seemed to take my arrival in stride.  Brad looked guilty as hell.  He looked like the fucking cheater he was.  I rushed at him trying to push him from the bed, only to tumble over him and land on the ground myself.

I am not sure what I was thinking, but I headed out onto the balcony.  Maybe the view of the Puget Sound would calm me a bit and they would both just get dressed and leave.  Unfortunately, they did not leave.  They did put on the minimum amount of clothes, for which I am grateful.  Clothed or not clothed, I would rather they would just leave me alone.  Brad was behind me trying to placate me by rubbing my back.

“I know what you must be thinking,” Brad assured me, “but I did not mean for this to happen.”  He tried to get me to turn around, but I willed for my body to face the water view.  I did not even want to look at him.  “She came on to me and I was lonely,” he continued.

From behind him, I could hear the door open again and I knew that Candace also was on the deck with us.  “Don’t be stupid, Darcy.  He is lying,” she called out.  “Brad, you know that it was only a matter of time before you were going to have to make a choice.”

“Stop, Candace!”  Brad then whispered to me, “Don’t listen to her.  Yeah, I might have flirted with her and maybe I gave her the wrong idea, but I never wanted to be with her.  I want to be with you. I have a ring and maybe I have been scared and have been making stupid choices because I know that soon you will be the last woman I am with.”

At that comment, I finally turned to face them.  “What!”  It came out as a cross between a scream and a cry.  “Are you insane?  Seriously, are you trying to tell me that you slept with her because you love me so much you want to marry me?  You slept with her… because you wanted to get in one last romp in the hay before getting stuck only having sex with me?” I laughed at his stupidity.

I honestly don’t know what happened next.  Somehow, I ended up falling. I can’t decide whether I am dead or only wishing I were dead.

“Her eyes are open!” Someone calls out through the murkiness of my mind.  An image begins to form.  I don’t recognize him.  “My god, she is awake!”  The paramedic bent over me and asked, “Can you see me?”

Unfortunately, I can see him.

OK, so do you think you know what pop music song inspired this little story?  Leave a comment with the song name and you may become a “Popspired Genius”.

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