The Only One...

There's been this niggling feeling of doubt for some time. Something's not right and now I know what. He loves Someone Else. And that someone else is my good friend Miss Fancy Pants.

Nothing has happened between them; she doesn't even know of his lust. Neither does his good mate Fido- who happens to have lived with Miss for the last three years -until just recently when they broke up. Miss moved out about six months ago and bought herself a small apartment. They share custody of the dog and Fido's hopeful that they'll get back together eventually. And so am I.

I. Me. What's wrong with Me? Why aren't I enough for you?

It's been a very long weekend...

I'd heard of nothing else but the Barmaid's party for three weeks. I began to wonder if it was her he was secretly craving. The party this. The Barmaid that. But I know her- and she's not the sort of girl who'd do that to a friend; and I'm invited too- in fact we talk more then they ever do. And I know she's not interested in him. She would count me as her friend if you asked her; and all of her friends like me too. On the few occasions we've hung out we've all gotten on like a house on fire.

The party was fun; and though Hubby and I weren't going to because it was still only a Thursday, we end up sharing a tile of acid. Everybody entered the pool competition and got smashed and we danced afterwards around the juke-box. The last I saw of the Barmaid, she and her friends were running away across the park together towards the Taxi rank. And then the shit started.

Fun's over. Get home. Why? Because You say so? I don't think so, Buddy...

We're arguing in the street when Stretch the Taxi driver asks if we want a ride. Hubby wants to go home but he concedes to making a stop on the way. We go to Twinkle Toe's house to see what happened to the party- there's a baby screaming upstairs when we arrive- Macca's grand-niece is staying over for a few weeks and her mother has gone out on the piss. Mac's not coping very well so I go up to her and change her nappy while Macca's heating up a bottle and trying the Club for her mother- all the while my Hubby is yelling at me not to interfere- and that I'm just making excuses to stay out longer than I have to.

Can't you hear this baby? Can't you hear her breathing in between the screams? That's not the hiccups, Hubby; I tell him. She's having an asthma attack. And You only want to go home because the Barmaid's party is over. If she was here you'd have wanted to stay too, wouldn't ya?

Fuckwit. Then Spastic Bitch. And I'm outta there- running away down the street. Why should I stay and listen to him hurl abuse at me when I was only trying to help Macca in his hour of need? My phone rings. I'm sitting in the gutter about two hundred metres down the road. Get back here or else. I go back- but don't even make it through the door before he's yelling More Shit at me. So I yell back at him that he's a Dumbarse as I run away again through the dark park.

You should take me home and call me Clark...

Fifteen minutes later I catch a cab from the Club- and am home by a quarter to one.

Then about half an hour later Twink shows up on my doorstep. Hubby has gone to sleep on his couch; the baby was still crying when he left Macca to his own defensives- her mother still nowhere in sight. Twink's off his head on acid and shouldn't be driving- but you try telling him that. I go out when I hear him crashing through my front fence- not with his car thankfully, but with his whole body- and he's practically begging me to go back to the house with him- to help Macca with the baby, especially- as he couldn't do anything himself obviously.

But I'm not going back. I'm shitty at my Hubby and I'm home now and in my peejays. I try and convince him to stay and not drive but he leaves anyway. So I go to bed. And my Hubby doesn't come home.

Friday morning I woke up to the phone ringing. It's him- he's missed work and wanting a lift home. After the shit he gave me. I wouldn't have collected him except that we had to pick Chopper up from the vet; he'd been in for two nights after acquiring a tick- and I needed someone to hold him down while I drove. After the vets I dropped them off and took my little Son to pre-school and then went to a cleaning job in Town; and though I was still coming off the acid myself I thought I did a pretty good job. I don't think I deserved the phone call I later got off the client telling me what a shit job I had done. I guess it was just turning into one of those days. Call my Boss then, I told him- the little twenty five year old wanker who's house I'd just cleaned. So he did...

After work I collected my Son, made miniture pizzas for his dinner and settled in for a big night on the couch- when Hubby sent me a message to my phone. Call me.

So it was decided that we'd be going to Fido's for a BBQ. I dropped off my little Son to Grandma's and packed a bag full of beer, collecting my Hubby and Twink from the pub. He's already swallowed an E and he's in a smart arse mood- joking around at my expense; saying he just has to give the Barmaid a kiss before we head off. Is it going to be like this all night, I ask him. Like what, he asks? I get to kiss Macca whenever I feel like it; not taking into regard that Macca's fifty and I've known him and his brother for fifteen years and they are like brothers to me. So, I ask? What's that got to do with You wanting to kiss the Barmaid just because you know saying that in front of me is going to hurt me? Don't worry- he tells me; he knows the Boundaries. I wish I did. What's that supposed to mean I wonder? That he can want someone else and flagrantly flaunt that in front of me- with words and actions- just as long as his penis doesn't accidentally fall into her?

Fuck. Give me a break.

We fight in the car- the whole way to Fido's. Twink's made the smart move of staying behind. Hubby's being an arse and not listening- telling me that it was lucky Twink came looking for me last night 'cos he certainly wasn't going to- and that if I'd got raped in the park I would have deserved it. I'm telling him that I wasn't staying out last night just for the sake of staying out- I was helping Macca with the baby. But we obviously can't talk civilly about this- so I'm telling him just to drop it. And He can't. Won't. So I can't either...and then out of the Blue I said...

Just admit it, won't you? You want to fuck the Barmaid don't you? Just tell me the fucking truth would ya.

What? Where did that come?

Fucking admit it!

Not the Barmaid.

Who? Tell Me the fuck Who?

Miss Fancy Pants. Okay?

No. No it's fucking not okay.

It doesn't change the way I think about her...

But it sure as hell changes the way that I feel about You.

What haven't I done for you? What wouldn't I do for you? I feel like you've slapped me in the face. Take that. Kapow. It's just another thing you've said to me that you can't ever take back. Like when you called me an Unfit Mother. Like when you told me you were with me only because you felt sorry for me.

Fido hears us arguing out the front when we arrive; and when he opens up the gate he asks us what's up. I wanted to tell him what my Hubby just said- that he just admitted to me that he loved Fido's ex-missus, but Hubby answers for me and tells him that we're arguing about the fact that I didn't want to go home after the Barmaid's party last night. He still thinks that's what the problem; like we haven't got bigger fish to fry. Especially now after what he's just said.

I want to laugh at him. The joke. Has Miss ever shown an interest in him? No. Is she his type? I sincerely doubt it. Would she do that to me, or even Fido, knowing full well that Fido still loves her and that I love my Hubby? Unlikely. And that's not even the point.

The point is that it hurts me to know I'm not the one he wants. I never have been. And I guess I never will be...

It hurts to think he could be in love with someone who doesn't do any of the things I do for him. It hurts that he'll never apologise for upsetting me and that I'll just be expected to get over feeling this way. It hurts that he just doesn't care.

I've slept on the couch for the last four nights. I don't want him to touch me. We haven't spoken of it again and I know he just thinks I'm being over the top about it all. I can't imagine not being with him again but I don't want to live a lie in front of my kids. I love him with everything I have. I Always Have.

And for a long time he's been thinking of another. When I wonder? While I suck his cock? While he fucks me in the shower? When else? And for how long haven't I be the one you want? How long have you made me live a lie? Don't you know I hate being second best? Don't you know I'm The Only One you should be saying that you love?

Because if I'm not- then why the fuck are you still here???

And for that matter- why the fuck am I?