Sometimes I like to write stories and screenplays in my free time. So I decided to switch it up and let you guys read one. Enjoy!
Before it’s too late
You find the love of your life and it’s all peachy and great and then it’s not. That’s when the real test plays out. A few years ago I bought my wife and I a 2 million dollar home after we got married. We loved that damn house. We were so happy when that moment finally happened. Trust me, it was a long road. Moving out from our parent’s homes, moving states, moving into a tiny apartment, going broke… We grew together, we built our empire. I remember looking at her in the driveway. She was holding the keys with such a look of awe on her face. I said to her, “baby we made it.” She never really got excited about fancy things. She was all “be grateful” this, and “we don’t need that.” But our home was a different story. She always said, “this is where we will spend the most time and raise our little family, we are investing in our future.” So naturally, I bought us a 2- million- dollar home, exactly the way my woman wanted it. She’s not easy. She wanted marble countertops with all curved corners for our future children we didn’t have, perfect lighting in every room, a wine cellar because she loved her wine, walnut brown hardwood floors, one brick wall, a fireplace, white, lots of white, modern but traditional, open but cozy, just listen to me when I say she’s a picky woman.
We got settled, and we started a family a year later. We weren’t trying to have a baby but we weren’t not trying to have a baby, you know? We had been together for five years and we had the means to do so. Alright, alright I was ecstatic to be a dad. My wife was a working woman. A businesswoman. She had to work and contribute or she would go crazy. She had her own business and took time off often to come to visit me when I had to travel which was well, always. I’m in the entertainment industry. I’m also a businessman. I work a lot; I guess that’s where I messed up. I got caught up. I stopped telling her to come to visit me. At first, it was what’s the point I’ll only be gone a few days, then it was it’s only a few weeks, then it was it’s only a month or two. I lost sight of her. It was fun you know? The people I was around were cool as hell and we were all doing things, we were all making moves and I just got caught up. Women threw themselves at me, I was powerful. People loved me.
I cheated on my wife. Multiple times. It got easier because I purposely distanced myself from her so I didn’t feel so bad. When I got home, she wouldn’t ask me but she would look at me and I would see that her heart was breaking more each time but I couldn’t help myself. I was working and it just happened so fast. I stopped sleeping with her because I couldn’t be that much of a monster. She cried herself to sleep silently, sometimes praying and at the time I rolled my eyes. I don’t know what happened to me. I didn’t lie to my wife but she didn’t ask me, I think she was afraid. I had rejected her so much already. She planned dates and something would come up, then I forgot our damn anniversary and her birthday. Any free time I had I put into my sons but I just forgot about her, she was a lot to handle but that’s why I loved her and I forgot that too. I should’ve fought for her.. for our love. She fought for me for a while and then she stopped. She nit-picked at everything, she was constantly trying to make me make time, getting onto me about my order of priorities, telling me she missed me and she annoyed me so damn much. One day she just stopped. I thought it was a blessing but little did I know it was because she gave up.
So one year ago, I walked into my house, we were 8 years into this mess. Our once beautiful life became such a disaster and it was my fault. She was putting our sons to bed. I watched from the doorway as she knelt by their beds and made them repeat after her in prayer. She kissed their foreheads but they saw me and screamed “DADDY!” and jumped right out of bed. So I hugged them and tucked them in with her. She wouldn’t look at me but smiled at the kids’ reactions. That’s when I thought to myself she’s a wonderful mom, had I told her that lately? She looked hot, damn my wife was beautiful. How long had it been since I’ve kissed her? Months. It had been months. We closed the door and she walked to our bedroom in her robe, her makeup was perfect and her hair in a clip. Had she been working out? She looked great. I remember she said “I hope work went well. The kids and I tried to facetime you last week. I guess you were really busy” It had been a week since we spoke? What the fuck was I doing? I don’t remember. “Yeah, I had a show and an interview to attend, sorry I didn’t keep in contact with you, babe.” “Babe? Since when do you call me babe? Anyways, I have to go to this thing, since you’re home I won’t call the babysitter over. The kids are already put to sleep but you can wake them up and spend some time with them. They miss you.” “Wait what thing?” “Um, my friend’s opening of her new bar. Why?” “Well, why don’t I come with you?” She was changing into a beautiful black backless ankle dress with nude heels and she looked stunning. She pulled her brown hair out of the clip, it fell onto her shoulders in loose waves and she looked at me with her big brown eyes and said “since when do you want to do anything with me anymore? I’ll see you later. I’m glad work went well, take care of our children and if you need anything text me.” And she walked out. I actually saw my wife that night instead of just passing her by and realized what I did and it was too late. I didn’t do my job as a husband. I tried to text her and tell her to come home so we could talk and that I was sorry for everything. I wanted to make things right. No response.
I didn’t sleep that night and she came in at three am drenched from running inside out of the rain, reeking of alcohol, turned on the light, and just cried. She cried and cried and cried and for the first time in 8 years said “I don’t want this anymore. I don’t want us anymore. I don’t love you anymore, I’m miserable. Please let me go, please Jason let me go so I can have another chance at love. Please give someone a chance to love me. I met someone tonight, I haven’t felt the way I felt in so long and I want that again. You don’t need me anymore; I want someone who needs me. I’m sorry.” Holy shit, I’m too late. Time escaped me. It felt like all of the walls were closing in and wait no she’s not leaving. Who the fuck was this guy anyways. “Baby no, come here, I’m sorry. I am here now, I messed up, let’s talk about this.” I tried to grab her and hold her but she pushed me and her eyes got dark. “Don’t touch me, Jason, you haven’t kissed or touched me in four months. The last time you kissed me you were drunk. Don’t you fucking touch me.” It was the worst argument of my entire life. The truth came out. All of the truths. I don’t even know how we got there. How I got there. It was too late. The next week I moved into an apartment. She let me see the kids whenever I wanted to, but I missed her. I took time off from work and tried everything. She stopped talking to me. I only answered my calls and texts if it related to the kids. I sent her flowers once a week on Tuesday for an entire year. The note always said “I don’t deserve a second chance but if you’re willing to give me one, I’ll meet you at the first coffee shop we went to when we moved here Sunday at noon.
Now here we are, I’m writing this. It’s been exactly 55 Sundays. She’s never shown up. Do me a favor, don’t mess up, don’t lose sight of what’s important, before it’s too late. Or you’ll be me, looking up and watching people pass by a coffee shop for over a year hoping it’s your wife. It’s time I forgive myself and move on. I get that. So I am going to close this journal and save it for my sons one day. When they are older I want to teach them to be better than their dad. On a final note, a woman hasn’t caught my eye in over a year and there is one waiting for her coffee with a Nike cap, and an ESPN magazine and maybe she’s my second chance.
That’s my wife.