copyright © Andi Dawson
I’d never really thought I’d be alone; I always thought I’d have someone who loved me. I definitely didn’t expect to be getting a divorce at my age. Yesterday was my 55th birthday, I spent it on my own. My husband left me for a woman half my age, with legs up to her armpits and a bosom that puts Dolly Parton’s to shame. I didn’t even know my husband was a legs and breasts man, he always said he loved my bum and that all he wanted up top was a brain. As it turned out, that’s not all he lied about.
When we married 36 years ago we were both so career minded and before we realized it the time to have children had passed. He said it didn’t matter; he married me because he loved me, not to have kids. So, we worked and saved for our retirement, planned a round the world cruise, something to look forward to. We both turned 50 and retired, a month after we returned from our cruise he began behaving strangely. We started receiving odd phone calls, late at night, every time I answered the phone it went dead. Then I found a love letter in the bureau. It was addressed to someone whose name began with ‘S’. My name is Barbara.
I didn’t even confront him about it; I just threw it on the fire. For a few months I pretended that everything between us was fine, I didn’t even question him when he started going on weekend fishing trips. He’d never been fishing in his life before and none of his friends went either, but I said nothing. It was funny in a weird way, he used to come home on a Sunday evening with his catch; the fish were always gutted and sometimes boned as well. He must have thought that I was stupid, but I knew he used to buy them from the supermarket on the way home. Still I remained silent.
For my 52nd birthday we went to Paris for a long weekend. It was really lovely, just like old times. Over dinner one night I asked him if his fishing partner would be missing him; it was the first time I had ever seen him blush. He gave some cock and bull story about how he’d gone off fishing and probably wouldn’t go again.
Two years went by as normal after Paris; he stopped fishing and the late night calls ceased. I had almost forgotten about his fishing trips when he announced that he was going to take up art classes. “Art classes?” I said, he hadn’t an artistic bone in his body. He said that it had just caught his eye and that he fancied giving it a go. So, that’s what he did, each week bringing home a terrible picture. One night, after several weeks of ghastly artwork, he came home with the latest installment and I told him that it was awful. He went upstairs in a mood and came down an hour later with his bags packed.
That was the last I saw of him. It turned out he really liked his art classes, especially the young thing who had posed for his latest picture. The still life model had chatted to him after the class and he said they just clicked. Have you ever heard anything so absurd, I hadn’t; until he told me that he was leaving me for her. Shortly afterwards, I got a call from our solicitor telling me that he would be acting on behalf of my husband who would be applying for a divorce. In a matter of months my whole life was turned upside down, but if I’m honest I’d take him back even now.
All the time he was away ‘fishing’ I knew what he was doing and I never told him to stop. I couldn’t fulfill his every desire but he still came home to me, so it all worked out. I would have let him carry on his art classes as well, but I didn’t get the chance to tell him. I know that makes me sound like a doormat, but the truth is I would have turned a blind eye forever, if he’d just kept coming home to me. No one comes home to me now and I’m so lonely.
The whole situation has been made a hundred times worse too as now she is carrying his baby and he is over the moon. An old friend of ours told me last week that he has been busy turning their spare room into a nursery. Luckily, they live far enough away that I don’t ever have to see them, I just couldn’t stand that.
When we retired he told me he couldn’t wait to spend every second of every day with me, we’d had so many plans. The time we did spend together after retiring wasn't quality time, but I didn't think it would end like this. I thought that his fishing trips had been part of a mid-life-crisis; when he’d stopped going, I thought that he’d realized what we had together was too good to risk. It seems that he was just waiting for the girl of his dreams to come along.
