The Other Woman-A Love Story

Some stories don’t have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it without knowing what’s going to happen next.  Delicious ambiguity….

-Gilda Radner

The Story Begins…

I’ve always been idealistic and a searcher; having more questions than answers. I became independent and somewhat of a loner at a young age, not so much by choice as by circumstance. Maybe this makes it easier for me to hear the whisper of passion, the language of Spirit. The focus of my passions has been accumulative and has shifted over the years. It has waxed and waned through the heartfelt moments of love and grief. There were times in which I felt and heard nothing but the lonely echo of a heartbeat, the dark night of my soul. This is where I learned to trust that Spirit was never far away, always listening, always waiting patiently for me to return to my true nature. If I could feel passion in my heart, whether I found it in a baby’s smile, the scent of fresh cut hay, or a hawk on the wing; I could feel the resonance of Spirit within me. Then, in that instant, I would be enough.

Each choice we make in one moment will affect the rest of our life choices; and like a domino effect, possibly the lives of others, near and far. Whether our physical life exists for five minutes or one hundred years, each and every soul will live to impact more people than we can ever imagine. Our mere existence will affect our parents, children, spouses, lovers, neighbors, co-workers, society, and/or the planet either positively or negatively; most likely both. In a chance meeting, we might unknowingly deliver just the right message at just the right time; words that could change the entire direction or life of another.

Have you ever wondered what it is; the song you came here to sing or the story you came here to write? I would sincerely hope that each of us has at least one great love story to tell. This is mine. It begins as a story of young love, the infancy of that puppy dog ‘mad about you’ infatuation of two soul mates that would play out for a lifetime. It is about a boy and girl whose chemistry was perfectly matched even though they were born on different sides of the track. It would be their first and maybe last taste for the global feeling of ecstasy that made them want to roll in the grass and lick each others’ faces; to stare up at the stars as time stopped and the two of them was all there was.

The Other Woman

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Rarely do we have the foresight to see that the smallest decision that we make in a given moment may ultimately be the biggest decision of our lives, rippling forth to touch the hearts of many

Let’s say that life rode you hard and you were put away dripping wet and trembling like a wounded animal.   You wandered out into nature to die because dying seemed easier than the alternative, surviving the inconceivable loss. Instead, you found that deep down, the wildness of nature was still alive in you and restless. For you, nature had always been a common ground for connection, a place where you felt safe to lick your wounds. You were just beginning to feel the pulse of aliveness, of being human again, when out of the blue you received her letter. It was simply addressed to the “Other Woman—the Worst kind of Woman.”

Thoughts that had apparently been brewing in her for over three decades, finally found a voice and it was the voice of pent-up fury. Anger and helplessness seethed from the scathing words that had become frozen over time in her heart. She had somehow found out about your loss and she may have felt that her timing was impeccable for what she had always wanted to say. “Sinners pay now or they pay later, but they always pay, so now, Jan, you get to live the life you created for yourself.”   You felt badly for her as she had clearly suffered for all these years. You had compassion for anyone who had to feel the torment of such suffering. You had been there.

You remember the time you first met him like it was yesterday. It was a warm spring day in Denver during the 70’s and the metropolitan pulse beat palpably in your naïve and innocent Midwestern heart.   You were in way over your head with the heated excitement of a fast paced city life that had been slowly incubated into your future from a hammock in a small rural town in Iowa.

That morning you hurried to dress for work. You tinted your lips a glossy pink as an afterthought. They matched perfectly the color of your favorite sleeveless baby doll dress that you decided to wear that day, making your arms and chest look golden brown against your long sun streaked hair.   Your fiancé gave a woof whistle and then kissed you on the cheek. “What’s the occasion?” he asked. “No occasion, just tired of my clothes.   Thought I’d put on something sweet today,” you said with a mischievous sideways glance. “It’ll give Twyla and Sue something to gossip about at the office.” He chuckled as he opened the door. “I’ll bring home burgers for the grill tonight,” he said as he winked, closing the door behind him.

You and Tom had been sharing an apartment together for almost two years before he placed a diamond under the Christmas tree. You didn’t have the heart to ask if Santa had anything else in his bag, so you were trying on the idea of marriage.   He was only your second lover and your life was just beginning. You already knew that you were not ready but you didn’t know how to tell him. You tried to rationalize your feelings instead of breaking his heart. Rationalizing was a coping skill you had been using since you were a young girl to stop your own heart from breaking.

Because you were relatively new as a Real Estate Closer, you were razor focused on your next project.   You sat at the big round conference table where you were making a quick study of his Developer file the day he walked into the rest of your life. When you glanced up, you saw that he was looking directly at you. He was wearing cowboy boots and blue jeans that couldn’t hide the fact that he had been a lifelong athlete. His blue plaid cowboy shirt with a red bandana accentuated his face, tanned from an outdoor life; and in that instant he reminded you of the cowboy heroes that you had worshipped as a wistful child.

A warm smile spread slowly across his face revealing an expression that you couldn’t quite identify. He looked surprised like he’d just seen you walk on water.   He had thick sandy brown hair that had just enough body to convince you that it wasn’t straight and hazel eyes that spoke a thousand words.   Catching you totally off guard, he struck you as being way too young to be a Developer. You felt the heat of a blush creeping up your neck and you hoped it wasn’t visible.

Your heart skipped a beat the first time he flashed you that infamous smile. You couldn’t help focusing on that sexy crooked grin that had just a hint of mischievous innocence written all over it. It set off a ripple of flutters in your stomach and made your mouth go instantly dry. He leaned across the table extending his hand, “Hi. I’m Dennis; and this is my attorney, Norm,” he said, all the while his eyes fixed on yours. He offered to take your hand and you placed it limply in his not sure if he was going to shake it or kiss it. You managed to faintly squeak out, “Hi, it’s nice to meet you too,” as if he was the first person you’d ever officially met.

How could you know in that moment that for a lifetime you would dance seductively in and out of each other’s lives and fantasies? It was like time stood still and everyone in the room, except the two of you, was frozen in place. His smile would be his signature, forever imprinted in your mind to this day floating just behind closed eyes and future dreams. You were just twenty four, he was seven years older and she didn’t yet exist in your world or his.

The voice behind the mask of persona tells and retells the story cautiously watching for ambiguity and twisted facts. In the end, the facts seemed so simple when told by the subtle whisper of a heart that knew his. When you listened in stillness, in your heart of hearts you heard the voice of that little girl who was simply afraid to feel the pain of lost love once more.

That undying love that the two of you would share for a lifetime was passionate and born out of innocence. It was pure, untouched by life, and safely locked away in its perfect memories to be played over and over on harp strings of passion. She knew in her heart this was a place that she would never be able to reach him. And, that was why she was so angry.

The stories, his, hers and yours, were intimately intertwined and born out of the difference of bias. In his story, you are the love of his life; and in her story, you are clearly the worst kind of woman. In your story, he would always be your champion; your knight in shining armor.   Ahhh, but in your story, it was she, who was the Other Woman.

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Her love was whimsical and free falling, a feverish dance behind a thin veil of gossamer wings and heartache. Perhaps it was a love not meant to be bound in marriage; for even in her own marriage, she would become the other woman. Born to a fear of abandonment, she would become the flawless Archetype. Safely locked in place where it would forever remain seductive in its purity, it was a pristine love that could never die as she played it over and over on the harp strings of passion.

To be continued……

 

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