Hi, I am Grumblebum and I am new around these particular parts. I am humbled to be included here and I do hope you enjoy my first offering......
‘Oh no,’ they said, ‘don’t tell your husband. He has no need to know. It didn’t mean anything to you, so why make him feel bad?’ The problem being, it did mean something to me.
One idle Tuesday afternoon, an obviously bored colleague decided to tell me that someone we used to work with had been rather in love with me. ‘Half your luck!’you might think. I would have indeed been flattered if Mr Meddlesome had relayed it as a diverting crush. I would have laughed, blushed and stroked my ego for a while.
All of this raging, wailing, rending of shirts and gnashing of teeth was going on while I flitted around all casual and friendly like, being all insufferably me. You know how it can be – all smiles and innocuous flirting, while not having a single clue you are ripping out someone’s intestines with the batter of an eyelash. I often put great stock in my people radar. I am like a bat. Wait – that is sonar. But never you mind, in this case, Oblivious was my middle name. Why didn’t the colleague who loves to play tricks on me, say anything? He was supposedly a confidante of Mr Lovelorn. In two years worth of opportunity, he said not a word and I found that hard to believe. Mr Meddlesome was adamant, ‘oh – it was just too sad, too horrible, he never would have told.’
Wait! Mr Meddlesome has more, if I didn’t feel terrible enough you hussy, you callow Jezebel. Not only did my would-be suitor stop his gym membership so that there would be no chance of bumping into me there, he left our job. I will have you know that our job is a career – it is not something that you flit into like a pollen drunk butterfly. You get in and hang on for grim death. And he left. Not just because of me, granted - but it was a large factor, or so I am told. I do hope I do not sound too dim, nor give you the impression that I believe I am all that and a bag of crisps. I am only of average looks, intelligence and personality. And I do realize that to some this tale is banality of the most inane kind. I didn’t exactly get bent over the photocopier, did I?
There was a large dash of salt to be taken with all of this news because Mr Meddlesome is prone to exaggeration, and this story had not issued forth from the horse’s mouth. And even though I told myself all of this, I was shell shocked. Blind sided. I wished I could have provided the young man with comfort and closure instead of flash my wedded bliss in his face. It did explain to me why he ignores me on a certain social network. I had been miffed, disappointed he thought of ours as a work friendship, rather than something that transcended it.
From the long way around, I return; I felt it a betrayal to not tell my husband. Not so much the letting him know about the undying love of a man who had been to our house bit, but rather the way it unsettled me, made me feel shaken up, anxious and sad; withdrawing into my own head. However, I took the advice of others and sat upon the knowledge. The crawling around in my head space reiterated the idea that you don’t have to share everything with your partner. Often I expect to give and receive and know all in my relationships, but I realized there is a secret life of me – a pocket, a corner that doesn’t need the inspection of others. I always thought as every emotion as being connected to my partner and our love. But in this secret, it was only about me; scary, liberating and maybe a little bit dangerous.