Last night was wild!
I hung out with a friend, someone I haven’t seen in a couple years, and someone with whom my time spent with her was short, simple, and few words spoken. We met at a show we were both playing, her being in a band on tour, and me in the band supporting them that night. A night I ended up getting food poisoning and passing out on a disgusting bathroom floor; a story for another time.
She picked me up, her car full of friends, and we went to a bar that is half bar, half thrift shop. A genius idea, if you asked me. A bunch of drunk people surrounded by inexpensive knick-knacks, even I almost walked out with a $5 wooden mug made from the branch of of a tree. Incredible, part of me wishes I had bought it!
The night was cool, I got along really well with her and her friends, leaving a good impression with them and myself. We had drinks, bullshitted, it was fun!
Then we left to another bar… that’s when things got weird.
So, let me warn you, this isn’t some wild “crazy shit happened” sort of night, but it was wild to me nonetheless.
We arrived at the bar, the bartender gave us free drinks (whiskey, neat, for me) and we got to chatting again. A man shared his pistachios with me, but I am a jerk and forgot his name! My friend has a crush on her best friend. The sexual tension was so thick it could be the butter and the bread- I found myself aroused. But the friend is married, her husband being one of the friends with us that night, though it doesn’t matter to me.
Everything was fine! We were all drunk, having a good time, but then the husband walked up to the wife, scolded her about something, and I watched as the light left her eyes. Much like the video of Trump saying something to Melania, and her look of misery following.
I didn’t understand the situation, I wasn’t about to ask. But something wasn’t right. The girl went outside, I was about to go myself but I didn’t want to make it awkward for her. Bad timing, I wanted to clear my head of some sad thoughts. So I went pee, went outside so she didn’t have to sit in the cold alone, but she and her husband were both gone, I assume talking.
15 or so minutes goes by, she comes in with a cloud over her head. She sits down quietly, my friend begins to comfort her, and the husband walks in. She is afraid. She audibly, yet quietly, begs him to leave her alone. To go away… He, after attempting to rectify whatever he had done by calling her petnames and holding her, gets visibly upset, drunken rage in his eyes, and storms off with his friend; they left, I didn’t see him the rest of the night.
I was walking around the bar (conjoined with a music venue), but decided to walk over. I attempted light-hearted humor. It worked, we three hugged and I tickled my friends back (oh no, here I go again with another simple crush). Then the suppressed truth spilled…”He grabbed me… He called me horrid names like ‘bitch’ and ‘cunt’… He hurt me… He is not the man I married.”
My heart broke.
It hurt because I am going through a breakup, and because it made me think of my father. A not very good man. Selfish. Violent. Narcissistic. I’m not saying the husband last night is like my dad, but the fact she said “he is not the man I married” struck me with a dark chord.
“He is not the man I married.”
Dark words. Spoken by a wife afraid. Words I hope are never spoken about me.