In My Life

It is hot, hotter than the times Jayson and I shared a bed. The scorching sun turned the metal folding chairs into instruments of torture. A hundred degrees in the shade and there is no shade. Two hundred metal chairs lined up on the white concrete patio seem to hold the heat, making it a cousin to hell. I feel my face melting like a wax figure left in the Mohave Desert. It is important that I look magnificent, and now my anxiety is causing my palms to sweat. Dripping from head to toe is not the way I want Jayson to see me.

A trio is playing music, the sounds are fading and I cannot make out the tune. Maybe the heat is blocking my ears. Can it be too hot to listen to music? Or is it my nerves? I try to concentrate on the melody, and realize it is one of my favorite songs “In My Life” by the Beatles. It seems so fitting for the moment and brings back more memories.

Seeing Jayson always makes me nervous, excited, and as giddy as a seventh grader on her first date. He rocked my world for a year and then I broke it off. He would not even speak to me civilly for nearly a year. For a while, he sent me nasty emails. A mutual friend told me that I broke Jayson’s heart. No one knew but I also broke my own heart.

How will Jayson look? Is he happy? I miss him, desiring his kiss and yearning for his touch. I take a deep breath. I smell nothing but heat, stale, sweaty and hot. I wish I could smell Jayson one more time he smells spicy like dianthus, and clean, with a hint of sensual musk.

Jayson is now on the patio. My husband squeezes my hand. Phil is letting me know, he knows how I feel. Phil always knows how I feel. He knew I loved Jayson before I did and even told me to go live with him if it would make me happy. Not many husbands would make such an offer. It was then I decided to end my relationship with Jayson. My husband deserved better.

Now Dianne is walking down the patio, ready to meet her groom Jayson. I introduced Dianne to Jayson two years ago. It was sort of a peace offering. Phil and I had met Diane at a friends’ house and felt she would be perfect for Jayson. I guess she was. Now we are at their wedding. The ceremony is short, but feels like an eternity. As they repeat their vows, “till death do we part” is not included, indicative of Jayson’s non-committal lifestyle. He is fifty and getting married for the first time.

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