How "Lucky" Am I?

How "lucky" am I?

That question used to be rhetorical. It needed no answer. Of course I was lucky. I had a lot to be thankful for.

I have a gorgeous wife that is every bit my complement. I had two healthy kids that were great students. I owned my own company that is small but productive. Yep, I'm very lucky indeed. The question needs no answering.

Of course, like everything in life, the truth of that question is not as simple as I once thought. Most people think of truth and lying as black and white entities of each other. The ying to the yang. Either something is true or it isn't. Right?

Recent events have shaken my faith is what truth really is. On a Richter scale, I've been hit with a 9.9 and my buildings are nothing more than a pile of steel, glass, and rubble. Today's truth doesn't match yesterday's truth. What was once a reason to feel like the luckiest man on earth is now a clue to how stupid I really was. I feel like Lois Lane who just found out that her mild mannered Clark Kent is really the man of her dreams. The question that she has to ask herself at that epiphanic moment is, "With all of the clues staring me in the face, how can a smart person like me be so STUPID?"

You see, truth is simply a matter of perception. Anyone who has seen The Matrix can understand where I'm coming from (if you understand The Matrix). To paraphrase Morpheus from the movie, "Reality is just electrical impulses interpreted by the brain." What you perceive reality to be is in fact YOUR reality. The earth was flat until it was proven that it wasn't. Man could not fly until the Wright Brothers changed the truth into something different.

If you think that all women are cheating whores, but you only go after cheating whores, then you are correct. On the flip side, if you think that you have a loving wife because everything that she does is what you expect a loving wife to do, then you would be correct also. That is, until you found something that changes your truth. And like that, my point emerges.

But before we dive headfirst into my tale of lying, cheating, manipulative, no good cunts, I feel that we need to explore how we got to where we are.

My wife Melony is 5'6" of what could be described by the cliché, "Lady in the streets, freak in the bed". She is what I call classy sexy. She wears clothes that shows off her "yoga body", but never shows you any more skin than is decent. Her blouses never show an inappropriate amount of cleavage, but they shape themselves to her full breasts and let you know that they are in fact spectacular. Her dresses always reach her knees, but they cling to her bottom half and present a round derriere. Her make-up is never heavy. In fact, she does it so delicately that you don't even notice she is wearing it.

Besides being a beauty, she's everything that I'm not. She's patience to my impatience. She's practical to my sometimes impulsive behavior. She knows when to apply pressure to get me focused and when to back off and let me figure it out. In 16 years of marriage, she has become so intertwined into me that I honestly feel that she knows me better than I know myself.

That may be how she was able to keep up the façade for so long. She knew me so well that she was able to manipulate my truth. Like the Twilight Zone, she was in charge of everything that I saw and heard. She made me believe what she wanted me to believe.

My son, Alex, is 15 and is in his sophomore year of High School. He stands at 6'1" and is built like a truck. He's a running back, no let me make that correction, THE running back for the State Champion Seaford High Blue Jays football team. Tackling him is like trying to wrestle a bull to the ground. He'd broken just about every running record the school had, and a lot of the state records. We have newspaper clipping of his heroics saved in a scrap book. His trophies litter his bedroom. I even got out of a couple of speeding tickets because the cops recognized him in the passenger seat and wanted to let us know that they were fans. Yep, he's THAT good. In case you didn't notice, I'm very proud of my son.

My daughter is the complete opposite. Alexis, who's also 15, is just like her mother (for those of you wondering, yes Alex and Alexis are fraternal twins). She is like Melony's clone as far looks were concerned. They also share similar demeanors. Alexis is very even tempered and graceful. She doesn't get excited much, but she's rarely in a bad mood. She always wore a smile on her face, but it was more like the smile was just who she was and not because she was always happy.

Alexis, like her brother, excelled in high school. But where he excelled at the sports part of things, she bloomed as far as grades were concerned. Things came easily to her. She wasn't a book worm or anything like that. She was just naturally smart. She remembered everything. If you told her to do something a week ago and gave her specific instructions, she would be able to follow them to a T. She differed from her brother in this regard. If you didn't write it in a playbook, you could forget Alex remembering anything.

That is my family. That's my truth. Until it all changed.

I've considered myself lucky in general, but I also have specific reasons why. For one, I was never really great at school. Yes I was decent. I graduated high school and went to college, but I was not what anyone would call a scholar. I was, however, good at fixing things. While I was not extremely book smart, I had a knack for figuring out how something was supposed to work. If you know how something is supposed to work, when it is broken you can figure out how to fix it.

I do have to pause here to laugh at the utter irony of that last paragraph in relation to my life. I'm good at figuring out how something is supposed to work and how to fix it when it is broken. Yet everything around me has been broken from the beginning AND I NEVER NOTICED. But I digress. Back to the story.

Since I had this 'talent' I naturally migrated toward the technical field. I studied computers in college. Computer engineering to be exact. While I was awesome at bringing dead electronics back to life, I sucked at math. I was HORRIBLE. This is how I met Melony.

She was a tutor. She was also a senior while I was just a sophomore. Yes, she's two years older than me. It shouldn't seem strange, but people usually automatically think that she is younger than me. They get that surprised look on their face when they realize that it was she who robbed the cradle. It could be because she does in fact look younger than me, but it is also because our brains are preprogrammed to think that in a marriage the man is always a few years older than the woman. Kind of like how if we hear about a doctor saving a life, we assume that the doctor is a man.

Anyways, she was my saving grace in math. To say that I liked her would be a gross understatement. I can honestly say that I loved her from the moment she introduced herself. Unfortunately for me, I was no Casanova. I wasn't tall or great looking. I wasn't a smooth talker around the ladies. I was just your average guy.

While I was completely infatuated with her, she barely noticed me as nothing more than another person to tutor. We didn't talk about our interests or anything special. We didn't really talk about anything other than math.

To her, I was another guy. To me, she was EVERYTHING. Her voice was soft, but also kind of raspy. It almost sounded like she whispered everything that she said. Her hair and her perfume drove me crazy. Her hands were always soft when they touched mine's. She was so sexy!

When she tutored me, I would always try to keep space between us. I did this because of how crazy she drove me. Innocently enough though, she would scoot close to me to show me what she needed me to see.

It took a little while to be able to concentrate enough to learn from her. It wasn't until she suggested that I should try another tutor because I wasn't learning that I buckled down and focused. When my grades started improving, she became my go-to math guru.

Over the course of that term, I did get to know her. Though she never really talked about herself, I put information together. She had a best friend named Tasha. They were ALWAYS together. They went to parties together. They shared an apartment. They were practically joined at the hip.

Tasha was the opposite of Melony. She was very opinionated and made no qualms about letting you know EXACTLY how she felt. She swore like a sailor. She was tall, lanky, and kind of awkward which contrasted Melony's graceful persona. Still, they worked.

I noticed that Melony did date some of the athletes. She wasn't the team slut, but I could definitely pick out a type of guy that she was into. Not really anything out of the ordinary. Tall, good-looking, athletic-body. Basically everything that I wasn't.

She did indeed date these guys, but not long enough to be in a relationship. She would be seen with a guy for about a week or two, and then it would be as if she never met him. She would be single for a good month or two, then start the process over with another guy. I couldn't tell you if she fucked them or not. I do know that she left a few broken hearts in her wake.

I was under no illusion that we would be together. While I practically worshiped her, I knew enough to not be creepy and come on to her. She made no indication that she was interested in me that way. Hell, we were barely acquaintances.

It wasn't until we had to have a tutor session at her apartment that I was raised up a notch. No we didn't fall into bed and become lovers, but I think that was the time she started to look at me as a friend. Or at least someone that she was slightly fond of.

When I finally graced the doorway of her two bedroom apartment that she shared with her roommate, I felt like I was entering the inner sanctum of another culture. I looked around and took in my surroundings. I have to admit, I almost laughed out loud.

I don't know if you've seen Batman Forever with Val Kilmer, Jim Carrey, and Tommy Lee Jones. If you have, then maybe you'll remember the scene in which the Riddler breaks into Two-face's secret lair. Two-face had two girlfriends. One of them is Drew Barrymore made to look like a house and garden version of Marilyn Monroe, and the other is a dominatrix from hell. His lair, like his ladies, is also decorated to be complete opposites. One half looks like it was done by Martha Stewart and the other half looks like a Goth teen's place of Satan worshipping.

I said all that to say that this was the impression that I got when I entered the apartment for the first time. I could honestly tell which stuff was Melony's and which stuff was Tasha's. While not as obtuse as the movie scene I described, it was fairly obvious.

Melony was very neat and organized. Her stuff was orderly and arranged for maximum convenience. Tasha was not. Though not a slob, there was no order to Tasha's world. The first place that she put her things was where they stayed until she needed them again.

Tasha was out on this evening, so Melony and I had a quiet evening of studying. Things remained the status quo of our times in the Library until a fairly drunk Tasha came home. She wasn't falling down or stumbling, but she was very obnoxious and loud.

My first up close impression of Tasha was not favorable. I instantly didn't like her. She was like a cheese grater rubbing against your skin. I'm almost certain that she felt the same about me.

She went into this long tirade about the double standards of men. She was complaining that a man can fuck any woman he wants and be considered a "player" but if a woman does it then she's a "whore". It was all form of control so that the man can do what he wanted and keep the female subdued.

Then she looked directly at me, as if challenging me disagree. Because I didn't like her, I accepted that challenge.

"Double standards aren't a means of control. It's about expectations."

Both females looked at me like I had two heads. I knew that having a sexist conversation against two women was a losing battle, but I was in it now.

"Double standards are because we expect a lady to fill a certain role. Because the standard for men is set lower with regards to sex, he doesn't have much to live up to. When he has two or more women, it doesn't appear as wrong as when a woman does it. We expect guys to be low down dirty dogs. It's nothing new. But a female doing it seems out of place. I'm not saying its right. I'm saying that the motive behind it isn't control, it's about role expectation. Women have double standards too. Everyone does. It's the way the world is."

She scoffed at me and gave Melony a look that said, "Can you believe this guy?" Melony, who appeared to be surprised that I engaged the She-devil in verbal battle, looked on with increased interest.

"Why don't you enlighten us little man. Please, I HAVE to hear this. Tell me how women have double standards that match the hypocritical ones created by the male ego." She looked incredulously at me, daring me to continue.

"Why is a stay at home mom a housewife, but a stay at home dad a deadbeat? Or why is it ok for a woman to bring no money on a date, but if a guy does that then he is a loser? Why is "Daddy's Girl" a term of endearment but "Momma's Boy" a reason to run for the hills? How about household chores? To say that it's a man's job to mow the lawn, take out the trash, and fix things is okay. To say that it's a woman's job to cook, clean, and do laundry is sexist."

I knew I won by the look on her face. It was like she was shocked into silence, but still angry enough to spit venom.

To punctuate the point, I added, "You see Tasha, women have them too. We aren't so different after all."

When Tasha didn't reply, Melody's laughter broke the tension. "Oh my God Tasha! Did he shut you up?" Melody playfully went over to Tasha and gave her a light shove. "I never thought I'd live to see the day." She taunted in a fake southern accent.

"Hurry up and tutor this dumb little piss-ant so he can go. Maybe next time you can find a real man to tutor." With that she stalked out of the room. Charming, isn't she?

After that our tutor sessions became more playful, though we steered clear of her apartment. We still did crack the books, but she started to be more open with me. It was like I was invited into her life now. If I knew that pissing Tasha off was the magic ticket, I would have done it sooner.

We began to joke around more. The friendlier we got the deeper I fell for her. She had an incredibly crazy sense of humor without really trying to be funny. She also motivated me in ways that no one else could. For instance, she bought an "I'm with Stupid" T-shirt, and he wore whenever I didn't do well on test. She told me that if I wanted her to take the shirt off, I had to earn it (double entendre not missed). Interestingly enough, though it was a joke I worked hard at keeping her from wearing that shirt. That in itself became motivation to do better in math.

I knew I wanted to marry this girl on my birthday. I didn't even know that she knew when it was. Imagine my surprise when I showed up at the Library for a session to find a small box in front of her.

"Happy Birthday Jake!"

"How did you..."

"Don't worry about it. Just open it."

I opened the box to reveal a hand-held PDA (This was before smart-phones). She wore the biggest smile on her face when she watched me lay eyes on my present.

"This is so that you can organize your classes and study time. I want you to stay on track and keep your grades up. I don't want you falling to the wayside when I graduate. I won't be able to hold your hand forever."

She gave me a playful pout, but the words she said were anything but funny. It was at that moment that I realized that our time together was temporary. She was going to graduate and move on with her life. After that, she'd be gone. I'd more than likely never see her again. My birthday present was so thoughtful, but it was also so depressing.

I perked up and put a smile on my face. "Thanks Melody. I appreciate it."

"Don't mention. I have to keep my favorite student focused." With that she planted a soft kiss on my cheek. Up until that day I don't remember a single gesture done by anybody that impacted like that innocent kiss.

Time moved on. Just as she predicted, she graduated. By this time she and I were friends, so I was at her ceremony. She made a cap and gown look like it belonged on the cover of sports illustrated.

After the ceremony I took her (and fucking Tasha) out to eat to celebrate. You would think that a woman getting a free meal would be less of a bitch to the guy paying. But no, not Miss Almighty Tasha. When Melony got up to go to the bathroom, she seized the opportunity to put me in my place.

"You know she'll never be with you, right little man? No matter how much you hang around her like a sad ass puppy, she will NEVER give you the bone. She has needs, but not ones that can be satisfied by that little Vienna sausage that you have." The look on my face must have satisfied her, because she arrogantly sat back and smirked at me.

Mel moved on with her life after that. She began job hunting and had very little time to spend with me. I was heartbroken, but I expected it. I was keeping myself busy trying to stay on top of school, so I didn't have a lot of time to brood over her.

Then one day out of the blue, she called me. She said that she hadn't seen me in a while and wanted to get together and do something. I happily accepted.

We went out to eat and then caught a movie. Hanging out with her felt so familiar that we fell right back to where we were in college. When I dropped her off at her apartment, she kissed me on the cheek and bid me good night.

After that dinner, I was pleasantly surprised to find that Mel still wanted to hang out with me. It was just us as friends of course. This time we didn't have to have an excuse. No tutoring, no grades, just us two. We caught a couple of movies, we went to eat, we did quirky things like go skating and finger-painting (don't ask). It was great.

I'd actually fooled myself into believing that we'd started dating. Once again, I have to remind you about how one person's truth isn't really the full picture. While I was thinking I had a shot, she was just hanging out with a buddy. I was just a casual bro to do fun things with from time to time.

I was brought back to reality and reminded just how casual we were. I'd gotten bored and decided to give Melony a call. Her phone went straight to voicemail. I left a message and waited about a half an hour. I sent a text and waited another 10 minutes until I just decided to drop by. When I knocked on her door and she answered my heart died in my chest. She answered the door in an oversized T-shirt with her hair looking a mess. She had a twenty dollar bill in her hand and looked at me with a little confusion.

"Jake? What are you doing here?"

"I was just bored and I thought we could hang out, but if you're busy I can just go."

That's when I heard a booming voice come from the direction of her bedroom. "Is that the pizza Mel? I could eat a fucking horse!"

"No, it's JUST JAKE!" She hollered back. Let me tell you, hearing her say it like that put everything in perspective in such a way that my truth changed before my eyes. Just Jake. Nothing to concern yourself over.

"We can hang out tomorrow Jake. Now is not a good time. I'll call you." With that she gave me a slight nod and closed the door. On my way out I passed the pizza guy.

I did not call her again. I didn't accept her phone calls. I simply cut her out of my life. Or tried to. I knew that it was unfair to her. She didn't do anything wrong. It wasn't like she cheated on me. She wasn't even aware that I had feelings for her. But seeing her in that doorway knowing WHY she had on that shirt, WHY her hair was messed up, and WHY that asshole was hungry enough to 'eat a fucking horse' was too much to bear.