Marsha The Bog...

Marsha the Bog wanted to fuck my Hubby.

Badly.

I could tell this by the way she was acting from the first moment that I met her. I'm not sure if my Hubby liked her in the same carnal way or not- but I disliked her immediately.

She's quite blatant about her obvious attraction; she's just not saying anything out loud in front of Me, that's all. She's nice enough to my face; she even says that's she's heard a lot of nice things about me. I got up out of the folding chair that I was sitting in long enough to shake her hand and then sat down again; sizing her up.

Because I'd heard a lot about her as well...

For the rest of the afternoon she tries to be friendly with me, making small talk about the recent All Blacks and Wallabies game that was on. Like I could give a shit about anything she says to me. We're not going to be friends. That's not going to happen. I don't trust her as far as I could throw her; which wouldn't be all that great a distance; just quietly. She's built like a small brick shit-house.

She's nothing like I expected from how my Hubby described her; I thought one of the many things he's told me about her was that she was reasonable enough to look at; but she's not all that great- she's nowhere near as attractive as I'd feared. I certainly wouldn't fuck her...

They are sitting right next to Me and I can hear every word of their hushed conversation. It seems that they both like sitting around a fire playing the guitar and singing along- so they already have more in common they We do. It's Australia Day and we're at a barbecue; I've stuck a fake tattoo of the Australian flag on my bare shoulder for something to do- and I'm idly picking it off now, flake by flake, as I listen on. Not that they're paying me any attention; they're too busy with their little chat to notice that I'm even sitting within earshot.

My Hubby gets her a plateful of chicken pieces and salad and continues his lively conversation with her while I slowly chew on my buttered bread roll in the corner- watching on. This isn't the first time they've met- She's a friend of Nort's and had met my Hubby plenty of times because she just lives across the road. I had never met her before though. I was always at home with the kids whenever Nort had a party- our little Son had only just been born- and in my absence this Bitch trawled for my Hubby's attention.

He's told me before Today that she's told him that she's interested in him; that she has openly admitted that she's attracted to him and would be with him- Regardless of me and our children; if he were interested enough in chucking away his life with me it wouldn't worry her one little bit that he already had a family. Skank.

I don't know why he does that; why he tells me Everything that happens. Sometimes I think it's because he wants to make himself feel good; it makes him happy to think that he's still 'got it' where the chicks are concerned and is just bragging to me- like he would to one of his mates down the pub. And I understand that; because I still like to to be thought of as attractive to people as well...

But his reasoning is more that he tells me every little thing the Chicks he meets say to him so that I know everything and so it's all out in the open and above board and then I won't get jealous over anything- because nothing ever happens; even when he really wishes that he was single and free and could fuck whoever he pleased; which he also tells me sometimes when he is really angry...

The Truth Is...I don't wanna know.

I wish he'd stop telling me about all the chicks who he says still want to be with him- even after he tells them that he's Married with Kids. It only makes me more nervous the next time that he spends any time without me. Especially if we've been fighting; which isn't all that uncommon an experience.

Now I'm paranoid that Marsha will be trying her moves on him every time she sees him; trying to worm her way into My place. I obsessed over this idea to such an extent that I even told my Hubby he couldn't see the kids again if he cheated on me to be with her; that she would never be my kid's Step-mother- that I'd even take the kids' 'down' with me if it ever happened- you know what I mean, I hope, without me having to spell it out...

And they had never even kissed- not as far as I know, anyway- because when it comes down to it my Hubby (for whatever reason) doesn't cheat on me. Intellectually I know this; that I would have found the evidence if any indeed existed- and none has yet turned up. I've searched. Believe me. And I've found Nothing.

She's moved away now- back to New Zealand; I think it's for the best, don't you? Especially as the next time I saw her I was planning on being a little bit venomous towards her...

The last time I saw her was at one of my Hubby's good mate's thirtieth birthday party. She wasn't really invited; she's just tagged along with Nort and his girlfriend. I'm getting drunker and sadder as the night goes on; but only because of what I had overheard my Hubby say to her- that he really liked her too but could only be friends with her; because of his Responsibilities. That's Me; the Deadweight in his life. And the two kids that I gave him that he never even wanted in the first place.

He was sitting right next to the both of us and I heard every word. She was even sort of holding his hand and I'm only half a metre away. I didn't want to make a scene; I just went and sat on the driveway until it was time to leave.

My Hubby insists on letting her share our cab even though we are going in the opposite directions- and lets her out without paying any money toward the fare. Afterwards, Nort's girlfriend told me that Marsha had thought I had over-reacted and that I was an attention seeker because I had 'everyone' coming out all night to the driveway to see what was wrong with me. No; not Everyone. Just the people who actually cared...

After the initial check up to make sure I hadn't really run away the Only person whose company Marsha wanted at that party stayed by her side for the entire evening- while I got over my 'little sulk'.

Those were my Hubby's words; not mine. Then he denied what I'd overheard, as well, and made that into me being a Fuckwit as well.

It certainly made the Psychologist Guy laugh when I told him about Marsha the Bog; he even mimicked the sneery-face I make whenever I mention her name so I could see what I looked like when I thought- or spoke- about her. I would have laughed Myself except I was being deadly serious at the time.

I can't remember what his advice was to me now- how I should deal with Marsha and the attraction she felt for my Hubby; and he for her...

I think he found my paranoia so amusing that he actually forgot to give me any.