kelby_lake
09-12-2008, 12:28 PM
When I was 15, I wished I could kill his wife:
'David Shant, man of mystery', that's what she called him. It was so silly because I knew everything about him. And he knew me almost entirely.
They were such a strange couple- she was classically beautiful yet unromantic and he was unassuming and incredibly romantic. Of course, everyone said how wonderful they were together, but I didn't see it. Not for jealousy, this was just my observation having studied his mannerisms.
I listened in on their private talks. David would say such things to her and she'd just turn away and laugh lightly, as if they didn't really mean much to him. She could not tell what I could- every nuance of his words, every syllable which shook slightly. He was forced to laugh along with her and be a generic husband.
'I should be his wife!' I used to hiss at my bedroom wall. Perhaps my jealousy may seem childish but back then I considered myself an adult- and an actual rival for his affections.
'David Shant, man of mystery', that's what she called him. It was so silly because I knew everything about him. And he knew me almost entirely.
They were such a strange couple- she was classically beautiful yet unromantic and he was unassuming and incredibly romantic. Of course, everyone said how wonderful they were together, but I didn't see it. Not for jealousy, this was just my observation having studied his mannerisms.
I listened in on their private talks. David would say such things to her and she'd just turn away and laugh lightly, as if they didn't really mean much to him. She could not tell what I could- every nuance of his words, every syllable which shook slightly. He was forced to laugh along with her and be a generic husband.
'I should be his wife!' I used to hiss at my bedroom wall. Perhaps my jealousy may seem childish but back then I considered myself an adult- and an actual rival for his affections.