Friday, September 4, 2015

Chapter 1 Starting Over

Jane’s Perspective

It’s been over two years since Richard’s been
gone. I can’t even say died. He’s gone. I almost

feel guilty that I’m so happy. Is it even possible
for me to be this happy and content with my life
after all that’s happened? How does a marriage
get that way after 30 years?
We had everything going for us, Ivy League
education, happily married, fine grown son – the
love of my life, a daughter-in-law bitch and a
cotton top grandson pain-in-the-ass!

Did I just have those thoughts? It has to be the
loss, the grief. Richard’s gone! Why couldn’t I
have been this happy when you were alive?
At first I thought you left me. I guess I wouldn’t
have blamed you. I knew you didn’t really love
me anymore. Maybe that’s what happened. You
were a top-notch sailor, always a first place, out
there on the water since you were three years
old. That’s what gave you purpose, life! Too bad
it couldn’t have been me and JR that made you
that happy. Every weekend, every season, a passion
that shut out everybody else! Even me!
Stale champagne, cold dinner, and me, celebrating
our 30th anniversary – alone! It’s bad
enough our anniversary fell on the most important
regatta weekend of the season. I was seething,
thinking you had forgotten our anniversary.

When you didn’t return home on Saturday
around your usual time, I called the yacht club. I
found out you hadn’t even shown up for the start
of the race off Egg Rock Harbor. That wasn’t
like you!

By Sunday morning, still a no-show for the
second day of the sailing regatta, I was frantic.
Even you couldn’t be that callous! Oh my God,
you left me all alone on our anniversary weekend,
completely alone! It wouldn’t have been
the first time you ‘forgot’ our anniversary, but
this one was so important to me!

We searched for you, had the Coast Guard out
in force, helicopters hovering over the waters
for two weeks, searching for a sign. I ached,
that hollow ache of desperation. It’s been over
two years now. Finally, my heart is beginning
to beat again. I feel something now! When you
were with me, all I felt was numbness in my life
agonizing loneliness. I almost feel guilty that
I’m so happy now.

You didn’t really love me or JR. You were
gone, working, sailing, and hiding out, anything
but spending time with me, with us! The void,
the silence, the lack of intimacy for me, it’s no
wonder I turned my back on you every night. I
wanted tender words. All I needed was a loving
touch, a conversation that didn’t end in snoring.
Rubbing up against me and torturing me with
your hard-on pressed up against my ass doesn’t
count as romance!
Those first years were so tender, so sweet. We
were on fire, pure love and delicious lust. It was
the real thing. I felt we connected when you
made love to me.
Your touch was loving, electrifying. I remember
how you touched me. Tenderly, you ran your
long, nimble fingers through my hair, stroking
my face as if I were a precious, porcelain doll
to you. Taking your time, methodically, you caressed
me, our bodies bending to the music and
red wine.

Oh my God, I still get goose bumps remembering
your electrifying touch as you stroked
my breasts, kissing each nipple, increasing the
pulling and twisting, working each nipple, first
one and then the other. Hard and erect, my nipples
never disappointed you. I arched my back
toward you to give you ample room to play.
Gently at first, then harder, each stroke arousing
me, wet and sweet, opening my legs and waiting
for you to enter. Slowly and firmly, thrusting
and grabbing my ass, gently to the rocking motion
of our bodies. Then, slowly you withdrew
and slipped those long, luscious fingers into me,
expertly teasing and twirling, round and round,
hitting the perfect spot, over and over, until I climaxed,
“Gorgeous, it’s all about loving you, and with
you it’s easy.” Always those sweet, satisfying

I remember those first few years and won
der how it could have gotten away from us. It
seemed so wrong to end this way. Just before
that tragic day, I remember telling myself that
I was dead inside. It would be over. Not even
numb anymore, but living this lie.

My life wasn’t supposed to turn out this way!
I had done it all right! Now, I’m emotionally ruined!

That’s what I remember thinking on the
night of our 30th anniversary, before I knew for
sure, that you had vanished into the sea which
you loved so dearly. I live with that guilt every
day. I willed your death!

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