Here it is the afternoon of Christmas Eve and I am sitting all alone at my kitchen table with a bottle of Jim Beam and my gun. I'm not a big drinking man but I did get the Jim Beam whiskey to build up my courage to do what I'm about to do. You see, this is the first Christmas I would be spending by myself in my sixty-four years of life. My wife of forty-two years died three months ago leaving me alone.
Not everyone has Happy Holidays. I can see that now. It's not that my marriage was all that good. We had some really good times and then those really bad times.
I'm just sitting here reminiscing. I remember when I first met my wife Sophie. She and her younger sister Helen were at the malt shop when I walked in. I was just a cocky guy who liked to meet young ladies and give them my spiel. I walked up to Sophie and gave her just about every pickup line I ever learned. She looked at me and said, "George, you're so full of shit I can't believe it," as she smiled.
"Does that mean you'll go out with me then?" I asked.
She just smiled and said she would think about it. That's how we first met. On our first real date we went to the drive-in movie. I did my best work at the drive-in. We kissed and played around a little and then I started falling for her big time. About a year later we got married. I remember her sister Helen came up to me at the reception and said. "George, I have to tell you something. When you first came up to me and Sophie at the malt shop we both liked you. Then Sophie looked at me and said, 'I'm going to marry that man some day, ' just like that George. She knew what she wanted and went after it."
It surprised me that both girls liked me and that Sophie was so sure about us. But that's the way she always was. She really was a special woman.
Our sex life was fantastic when we first got married. We were like two rabbits making love all the time. It was special. It wasn't just love or just sex. It's hard to explain but it was loving fun. We did it most anytime, anyplace, and everywhere. We would always try new places to make love. The kitchen table, from behind at the kitchen sink. One of Sophie's favorites was on the washing machine while it was agitating. I had to stand on a stool just to get high enough to insert my dick, but the vibrations were awesome. Sophie's climax was pretty good too.
I remember us buying a book on '101 sexual positions.' We started on page one and started having fun. You would have had to been a contortionist from the circus for some of those positions. That's what I mean, we always had fun while having sex. We tried oral a few times but Sophie said it wasn't her thing. For her to get pleasure she wanted it in her. We even tried anal one time. I got her sort of high on screwdrivers and was taking her from behind. My dick was really wet from dipping it in her pussy. So I pulled it out and slid it up to her arse. I barely pushed the head in when she screamed out, "It hurts George." I got about two more inches in when she told me, "That's enough George, no more." It was tight, I mean really tight. Her arse was actually squeezing my dick so hard it hurt. I finally shot a load up her arse. She looked at me and said, "George, I hope you really like that because it's never going to happen again." Then believe it or not she kissed me, just to let me know she wasn't mad.
We ended up having two kids: a boy and a girl. Sophie was a great mother and then a great grandmother. She put love into everything she did. I remember when the kids were just little, maybe seven or eight. They wanted to decorate the Christmas tree. Well, Sophie was somewhat of an artist or perfectionist when it came to decorating. I couldn't imagine her letting the kids decorate the tree. I just set the tree up and left the rest to Sophie and the kids. She let them put on the decorations. She tried to explain about decorating but let the kids go and do it their way. They were happy as can be when they got done. The tree looked like a disaster. She just smiled at the kids, told them they had done a great job and then put them to bed. Then she came back in and redecorated the whole tree for the next two hours.
When the kids got up the next morning they looked at the tree and asked what happened? Sophie just said she added a few decoration. The kids looked at her and said, "We did good, mom, didn't we?"
"Yes, you did, you did a great job," was her reply. That's just the way she was. She put love into everything. There was nothing she couldn't cook. We hardly ever worried about leftovers at our house. Everyone always ate everything up. Even if she just made a sandwich, it was always better then the one I made and used exactly the same stuff.
I remember asking her one time, "Why do your sandwiches taste better? It doesn't make sense. We use the same stuff."
She looked me, smiled and said, "I always put love in my sandwiches." It was true, everything she did was just a little better.
I don't know how far we ever made it through that book of '101 Positions, ' But making love with Sophie was incredible. Of course after the birth of the kids we did it a lot less but we still had the loving fun. That was until I ruined it.
I don't remember if Sophie was going through a change or sick. But she became a little distant to me. Now, looking back, I believe it was the medication she was on. Anyway I had an affair. This gal at work was kind of flaunting her wares. Her husband was incarcerated and she must have been lonely, horny or both. I went for it. Seeing Sophie was kind of turned off to me, I went after Nancy. We probably had sex a dozen times over a few months' period. I would be lying if I said it wasn't any good. It was great. It was new, strange and different. I just fell to the temptation. Of course one day Sophie found out and I figured my marriage was over. I did the usual apologizing and explaining about it not meaning anything, promising to stop and never do it again.
Sophie yelled and screamed at me. The worst thing she did was cry. I couldn't stand to see her cry. That's when I hit my lowest level ever. Seeing what it did to her just tore me apart. She didn't deserve it. She should have just dumped me right then but she didn't. She stayed with me.
Our life never returned to the happy state we had before the affair. I know Sophie never trusted me again even to the day she died which was twenty plus years later. We didn't make love till a few months after the affair. We had gone to a party and when we came home Sophie let me make love to her. It was never the same. We had sex but it wasn't love anymore. Sophie never gave so freely of herself again. Every once in awhile I'd feel her give in some but never the happy go lucky fun loving that we once shared. It was my fault. There was nothing I could do to repair the damage I had done.
The rest of our life went on pretty normal. The loving meals, the happy mom and a lot of good times. We enjoyed our vacations and doing things together but the love life eventually deteriorated into nothing.
There was a time there when Sophie said she didn't care for sex all that much. That she learned to live without it and so it wasn't a big thing in her life anymore. That is enough to turn any husband off. It was even hard to get a hard-on when the woman you loved didn't want to make love with you anymore.
I remember reading a story on communicating. Sophie and I did that, we communicated. The only problem was our talks always ended up in arguments. It was almost always negative talk about me. I didn't do enough around the house. I didn't want to take her shopping. I spent too much time on the computer. I never wanted to go anywhere. And on and on and on...
About five years ago I had a heart to heart talk with Sophie. I told her that I don't think she ever forgave me for the affair, that I believe she fell out of love with me and I deserved it. I believe she only stayed with me because of the kids and that our life outside of no sex was pretty good. I still loved her and told her I never had sex with any woman since the affair over twenty years ago. I promised her that I would always be there for her and if she wanted me all she had to do was ask.
I went to her one time after that and even tried oral sex on her. She said she didn't really feel anything. I touched her but there were no sensations. After that we cuddled once in a while but that was it. One day she said she knew I masturbated. I asked her what choices did I have. She didn't want to have sex with me. I promised her never to cheat on her again and was going to keep that promise. I would never hurt her again. Then there was masturbation. If she knew of another way to get release to let me know. She just walked away.
I was now thinking about my kids. Of course they weren't kids anymore. They would soon have grandchildren of their own. George Jr. lives a state away with his wife and three kids. Dorothy lived maybe a hundred miles away with her husband and two kids. It really hurt Sophie when their jobs took them away. At least their children were pretty much grown by then. Sophie just loved being around the kids.
All the Christmases when our kids were little were the best. Christmas morning we all sat around and opened presents. The smile on their faces and the smile that Sophie had just watching them. Some of our joyous times were around the kids during the holidays. Then after our kids were grown and married, Sophie did the same thing with the grandchildren. The warmth and smiles that were on the little faces was her reward.
When the kids had to move away, Sophie made sure we went to their houses for Christmas. She wasn't about to miss the holidays with family. I just went along and enjoyed the holidays. If it made Sophie happy, I was happy.
Sophie's sister Helen got married a few years after us. She married an insurance guy named Ted. They seemed to be a pretty good match. The four of us went everywhere together. We were almost inseparable. We went to the movies, dancing, dinner all the time and even went on a cruise together. I probably loved Helen almost as much as Sophie. I never did anything to harm our relationship in any way. The four of us just seemed to hit it off. I know Sophie thought a lot of Ted also. But we all just stayed friends, that is except Sophie and Helen. They were probably as close as two sisters could get. I doubt if they even kept a secret from one another.
Three years ago Ted had a heart attack and passed away. He was only fifty-seven years old. Way to young to die. Helen was heart broken. She lost her love. Sophie and Helen both took it really hard. We were four, now we were three. We still included Helen in most everything we did. At least I didn't have to go shopping all the time now. Helen went on with her life. Since Ted was an insurance agent, he saw to it that she was well taken care of. At least financially she was secure.
She had one daughter who lived in California. She spent the holiday season out there with her daughter and her family. She was never in a hurry to get back, so she stayed usually a month or so. She was planning on going again this year. Wish she would have stayed home this year. Maybe she could talk me out of what I was about to do.
There was always turmoil surrounding our marriage. Everything seems to always lead us back to the affair. Do overs, that's when if you had the chance you could go back and correct the mistakes in your life. Would-a, should-a, could-a, doesn't mean a damn thing. I made the mistakes and now spent the last twenty five years of my life paying for it. I thought of leaving Sophie a dozen times. The problem was that I caused the heartache. I had the affair. I'm the one who put our marriage in this life long turmoil. But most of all, I still had strong feelings for Sophie. Even if we had arguments, which was pretty regular, I knew she was always there. We might have even been in different rooms but I didn't miss her. I knew she was just two rooms away. It's funny when you think about it. Sometimes it was like two strangers living in the same house. But it felt secure. We pretty much learned to live with each other's faults.
Damn, I wish I was a writer so I could tell you how it really feels to miss someone. I just don't know the words. Ache, pain, misery, loneliness, that's what I've been feeling since Sophie's death. I don't want to be here alone anymore. It's terrible, no-one to even argue with. I go out during the day, always coming home to an empty, lonely, dark, too quiet place. I don't even know my own thoughts anymore. How do you cry on paper? How do you explain emptiness? Sophie was right when she told me one time that I should die first, that I didn't know how to take care of myself well enough to live alone and that I probably couldn't handle it. I remember arguing with her that I took care of myself for over sixty years and I could continue to do so until the day I die. She just laughed and said, "George, I'm the one who has taken care of you for the last forty-two years. I think God made me your guardian angel because you can't go through life alone."
Looking back I believe she was right. I hate to admit it but I don't do well on my own. But now I'm just too old and too tired to go looking for a partner. The only person that would even come close is Helen and I doubt if she would want anything to do with me, not after she was through talking to Sophie and besides by now she's probably a thousand miles away.
I know I'm feeling sorry for myself. But I'm in this terrible rut and can't or maybe don't want to take the effort to climb out of it. I'll just keep drinking my Jim Beam and build up some courage.