Part 3: The Subway
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Part 3: The Subway

Conversation with Myself Series

Part 3: The Subway

It was strange to me that both men at the bar had their wives cheat on them. For cheating just never really felt like it was that common of a problem. I always held the belief that cheaters should be dumped immediately, no questions asked. I always thought that cheaters are the worst. That someone has given you love and chose to love you and you turn around and chose to cheat, disgraceful. There is no promise more important than choosing to love someone. Love is not an emotion. It is one of the hardest things a person can do. You chose to love people. You cannot love someone after a short time. It is a choice not an emotion. The warm and fuzzy feeling that you get in your tummy at someone kissing you or your crush waving at you, that is affection. Affection is not love. Affection is the feeling we trick ourselves into believing is love and we use it as an excuse to do and make some decisions.

Allowing ourselves to believe that affection is the same is love. Is how we believe an abusive relationship is okay; or we allow our partner to talk us into doing things that you do not want to do. The mind is a powerful thing and we can trick ourselves into doing some amazing things. Our mind in wear our love happens and our decisions are made. I do not know how the heart gets all the credit for love. The heart is just a muscle. But I sketched an image of a broken heart once. It was scarred to show all the pain in my life. I carry my pain like football injury. My pain took me out of the game and I was never the same since. Like tearing your ACL in a game; you are taken out, and then you can't go back until you have surgery and rehab it. Then, you never really walk the same way again. I always thought that was interesting that with one moment your life is changed forever and nothing will ever be the same.

Love is the same way. Once you fall in love or out of love you will never be the same. It is worse if the love is ripped from you. Love can be ripped from you by death, cheating disappointment, rejection, loss of any kind, and there are so many more. Both men in that bar lost their love because on cheaters. I can't imagine cheating on someone I love. Doing that is just wrong and I just cannot imagine doing that with someone else when I have someone that I love. Like the person I love feelings just do not matter to me. I get my selfish loving on the side. I understand that it is not always like that. But some people feel bad about it. But like you can just as easily not cheat. Even if you did not mean to, you got yourself into a situation where cheating happened and that is your fault. It I was ever unhappy in a relationship I would not cheat, I would talk it out. Or scream at the heavens, never cheat. I hope I never cheat. Never is not a good word; no one can guarantee something forever. Nothing lasts forever, I know from firsthand knowledge. Love is hard. Even love does not last forever.

After the bar I wondered all of five feet to the entrance to the subway station. I walked or more accurately stumbled down the stairs; to the trains down below. I used my metro card to get on a train that was hopefully going nowhere. That's where I wanted to go. I sat down in the bench as the doors close and take off my glasses and run my hand through my hair. Then I bury my face into my hands.

"Rough night?" The man reading a newspaper across for me asked. He was the typical suburban dad buttoned-up plaid shirt tucked into ten pants. Sensible shoes and plain white socks with crossed legs and a newspaper in front of his face that he folded in such a way that he could see me and I could see his face. Glasses with big lenses, a thinning hair line, and a goofy smile was staring back at me a mess.

"You could say that." I say with a sigh.

"I have had many rough nights looking like you. What's got you down?" He asked.

"With all due respect, I don't know you."

"That's alright. Sometimes it's good to get things off your chest and I have got a while before my stop." He said with a goofy smile. "What if I guess it?" I nodded that that was okay. "Could it beeeee…." He tapped his chin with his finger. "You are sent out to get something for pregnancy craves?" I shook my head no. "Hmmm….. you got dumped?" Shook my head no again, "By golly I am stumped."

"Is it a woman?" An Irish voice chimed in. He had been wearing a nice suit standing off to the side with his friends and took interest into our conversation. He removed his ear buds and submitted his guess. I nodded yes.

"Gee will-a-cures! That was a good guess." The dory dad type said.

"Look at him." The tall handsome Irishmen said. "He looks like a man with a broken heart." He slowly walked over and sat down on the same bench row I was sitting in but two seats were left between us. "Tells us lad, what happened?"

"Oh well he's not really a talker." The dad said. "But if it helps I can share a tough story. My wife once had an affair."

"Wow, how did you handle that?" The sexy voiced Irishman asked in his light grey suit with a dark buttoned-up shirt without the top button buttoned and no tie.

"Well I don't mean to embarrass Mrs. Garrison but she did it and I found out because I found some evidence."

"What type of evidence?"

"Like his socks or other articles of clothing that were not mine; some condom wrappers and such."

'I'm sorry to hear that man. My wife was also unfaithful. It's awful. She had sex with another man and did not tell me for six months. During that time I had no idea. I proposed and we planned a weddin' together."

"What are earth did you do?"

"I took her at her word and married her anyway."

"Are you still together?"

"No, that decision to trust her bite me in the ars. She cheat again and that time we ended things. You? What did you do?"

"Well that's actually a funny story. It turns out that those condom wrappers were just condoms she used for balloons and the extra clothes were clothes she bought for me and got the wrong size and then she spilled soda on some of them and that's why the extra underwear was sticky at the crouch area. Haha, silly goose. Egg all over my face." The Irishman and I share a look as if to say, "Are you serious?" and then the Irishman asked him.

"Are you serious?"


"I thought you said that she cheated?"

"Well that turned out to be a special hug that her and her tennis instructor have. He's European you know they do things a bit different over there. When he hugs it has to be laying down. The only reason his pants wore off was he gosh darn it spilled grape soda on his pants and they were drying. Then he spilled his pop on his under wear too, the silly billy and she was only in the crotch-less sexy maid outfit because she was dusty the house and he wanted to thank her for cleaning his clothes so he hugged her." The Irishman looks at me again, we shrug our shoulders and wonder if he can hear himself.

"Then why did you say she cheated?" I asked.

"Oh, because I walked into her having relations with the waiter at our wedding," he said.

"Oh? That's not good." I said.

"Well even that one is innocent. Apparently she was changing out of her dress when the waiter went into the same closet to fix his belt and as you would know it. He did not see her in there and as he dropped his pants to fix his belt and shirt she bent down to pick something off the floor and she bent down right on his penis, what are the odds of that!"

"I think your wife is a whore," said the other stock market looking type that was with the Irishman as he came over in a blue suit. "Look I found her porn site. Mrs. Garrison, right?" He should his phone to the dad type looking man.

"Oh, that's a naughty photo!" He said looking away, "But that women somewhat look like my Susan but she would never cheat on me."

"Dude, you are in some of these photos." Wall Street man should the phone to me and the Irishman and sure enough there was a man that looked like the man in front of us.

"Hey man, have some class. It's the man's wife." The Irishman said.

"Didn't you wife bang some dude?" Wall Street asked the Irishman.

"Aye, she said it meant nothing. But after the third or fourth time she cheated on me. It looked like it was a pattern. I left her when the child she bore was not mine. She made her choice and I left. I gave her everything and she stabbed my heart with draggers that caused me the most pain I have ever felt. She would take pride in the fact she told me and changed nothing. She acted like she deserved a medal that she told me. Like it was nothing to her and I should just forgive her and feel bad for her. I do not feel bad for her. She made her choice and is now living with her choice. I have my limit and I could not stay if she kept breaking promises."

"That's rough man." I said.

"No really you should have dumped the bitch. My girl once cheated and she, 'felt bad' and I told she was going to have to earn my forgiveness. Every time she wanted to do something I was like, 'hey remember when you fucked that guy that was not me.' And then we did my thing. She eventually broke up with me. Haha, unfaithful chicks are the best if they feel bad for it because then you can guilt them into anything."

"That's horrible." The Irishman said.

"I know I can't believe she did that either." Wall Street said.

"No, that you used that sweet girl like that."

"What she would do anything for me, anything."

"You are horrible."

"I mean anything."


"I'm talking butt stuff."

"Stop!" The Irishman said loudly.

"Why did you get your girl a second chance?" I asked the Irishman.

"Love, and I feared what she would become if I did not take her back. My fear came true when I left. She has sex with anything now." He said with a sigh.

"Sucks," Wall Street said almost sarcastically.

"Do you guys really think my wife is cheating on me?" The sad dad type asked. We all nodded yes. And he cried to himself.

"Well this is my stop." The Irishman man said. "Lad, I hope you can find forgiveness in your heart. The hardest thing for a human to do is to love and forgive. With one moment my life changed forever. When she told me she cheated. I was loyal but she was not. I regret nothing I at least tired." The beautiful Irishman left the subway.

"He's lame. He never orders a prostitute when we get them for the office. He loved that girl so much that when they split he has never loved again and wonders the world completely alone. It a total buzz kill at parties and he is a bummer and like majorly sad all the time." Wall Street said. His phoned dinged and he looked at it. "Sweet!" The train kept moving.

"What?" The dad asked.

"I will be fucking your wife later. She sent me a message on her porn site and said she was available for a bone session." Wall Street said to the dad."

"What?" His phone rang and he answered, "Hi, honey!" He listened for a moment. "Oh, so I should get milk? I just got milk." He said holding a plastic bag with milk in it. "You need more milk oh okay. You got it!" He hung up his phone as we got to the next stop.

"Here's where I get off." Wall Street said.

"Oh this is my stop! We must live close together!"

"Nope! I am going to your house." He repeats an address that makes the dad get up in anger and chases after the Wall Street guy. I was alone again just like in life. Alone and unloved… a total loser. Riding the subway by my lonesome my pain filled the empty space as I only had a half gallon of milk on the seat across from me for company. Shattered.

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This article has not been reviewed by Odyssey HQ and solely reflects the ideas and opinions of the creator.

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