At the Bar [contemporary Love Story]
Copyright© 2025 by Laxu
Chapter 3
Taking a deep sip of my drink, I try to push down the feelings from my marriage. It’s been over now, what, five years? No point in thinking of it. Even if most of those years were awesome. Man, I remember being so happy, especially coming home to her.
She slipped away from me. I tried to hold on, but it was pointless. The beginning of the end was when she joined some would-be MMA club. I encouraged her to do so as I hold two martial arts black belts. I thought it would be cool to spar once she got some experience as every time I tried to teach her martial arts she couldn’t remember any moves.
One night of class became two, and before long she was going nearly every night and forgetting about me. When I finally did check out that school, I found it was a joke. It was a McDojo, there to be glorified babysitters to kids after school, and let women get out their aggression on training dummies. There was no real lesson plan or thought to what they were teaching. Just whatever the would-be teacher thought up that day and even then the classes were glorified sessions for him to say how great he was.
She didn’t want to hear it when I criticized the place. Said I was jealous because the teacher was a true professional and everyone that goes there were great guys. To this day I have no idea why she thought that as the teacher was true white trash. A drunk, owing money, missing several teeth, not to mention spent time in jail from everything from fighting to missing child support on his ten kids. That guy was a professional?
It didn’t do my self-esteem much good when she left me for him. The “classes” she went to were actually for her to cheat. Not that I knew at the time. Like an idiot I tried to save the marriage, but with couples counseling and having daily talks, she ran off with him.
She too said she wanted to remain friends when I signed the divorce papers. Said I was the kindest and sweetest person she had ever known. And if it wasn’t for me, she would have never grown as a person.
At least with her, I somewhat get updates thanks to the mail that still comes to my house. Seems she learned to be white trash as well. On purpose she doesn’t change her home address, so all the bills, bill collector letters, court summons and more come to my place even after five years apart.
Sometimes I wonder if she left me because I was better than she wanted to be. Her friends told horrible stories that she found hilarious, such as going around their neighborhood with a pellet gun, shooting elderly people taking out their trash at night. Or when they talked about a black or Hispanic person they would refer to them as “the colored person.” Whenever I brought up these points or more, she would get so pissed at me. Saying that I couldn’t take a joke and was being weird. That I didn’t understand.
“Why didn’t you get her something then?” The friend asks the crying man, knocking me out of my own thoughts.
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